#but I don’t know in the way of I don’t need to fully know. I’m happy to sit comfortably in doubt and uncertainty | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pbaz7 · 2 days ago

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FLIGHT 2136: PART FIVE

paige x azzi

word count: 6.9k

A/N: This was a little bit of a struggle I’m not going to lie 😭. Please let me know what you’d like to see more of in this story or what questions you’d like answered I’m trying to stay consistent with it. This is kind of just a filler chapter between transitions. Let me know what you think!!

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3rd Person POV - Minnesota

The sun filtered through the blinds of Paige’s childhood bedroom, casting streaks across the half-packed suitcases and scattered piles of clothes. A duffel bag lay open on the floor, half-filled with way too many sneakers, while a few hoodies sat neatly folded on the bed—evidence that they had, at some point, attempted to pack.

But now, Azzi was perched on Paige’s desk, her legs draped loosely around Paige’s waist, and neither of them seemed remotely interested in finishing the task.

Paige stood between Azzi’s legs, her hands resting on Azzi’s thighs, fingers pressing into the soft skin. Her own shirt had been discarded somewhere in the room, leaving her in just a sports bra, her scar fully visible in the dim light. If anyone else was in here she would have been hesitant—self-conscious, even—but not with Azzi. Never with Azzi.

Their lips moved together in a perfect rhythm—slow and slightly messy. Just the way they both loved.

“This doesn’t feel like packing,” Azzi mumbled against Paige’s mouth, though the slight hitch in her breath when Paige squeezed her thighs betrayed just how little she cared.

Paige smirked, letting her lips ghost over Azzi’s jaw before returning to her mouth. “I don’t hear you complaining.”

Azzi let out a soft laugh but didn’t argue, instead tightening her legs around Paige’s waist and dragging her closer. Paige’s fingers flexed at the feeling, gripping a little firmer, her thumbs stroking absentmindedly over the skin exposed where Azzi’s shirt had ridden up. The warmth of her skin, the way Azzi leaned into her touch whenever they saw each other—it was always intoxicating.

The kiss deepened, Azzi tilting her head to grant Paige more access, her fingers threading through Paige’s blonde strands and tugging just enough to earn a quiet hum in response. Paige’s lips parted, her tongue tracing the seam of Azzi’s mouth before she pulled back just enough to catch her breath, her blue eyes dark and heavy-lidded.

“Paige,” Azzi whispered, the name slipping out somewhere between a sigh and a plea as she pulled her with her legs.

Paige swallowed hard, heat pooling low in her stomach at the way Azzi said her name—like she needed her, like nothing else in the world mattered. Her grip tightened on Azzi’s waist as she pulled her closer and dipped her head lower, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses down the column of her neck. She lingered at the pulse point just below Azzi’s jaw, nipping lightly before soothing the spot with her tongue.

Azzi’s breath hitched, her fingers curling in Paige’s hair. Paige couldn’t help the grin that flickered across her lips before she continued her descent—her mouth grazing lower, past Azzi’s collarbone, pressing heated kisses along the exposed skin above the neckline of her shirt.

Azzi let out a quiet, shaky breath. “Paige, please—”

The sound of a door creaking open barely registered at first. Paige was too caught up in the way Azzi was unraveling beneath her, pulling her closer, the warmth of her skin against her lips.

She hummed against Azzi’s neck, the vibration making Azzi shudder. Paige pressed another open-mouthed kiss just below her jaw, sucking lightly at the spot she knew would leave another mark.

“I know,” she mumbled against her skin. “I got you, gimme a second beautiful.”

“Looks like I’m interrupting something.”

Paige froze. Her body tensed immediately, her hands still gripping Azzi’s waist, her lips still hovering over the mark she had just left. Slowly, she lifted her head, her breath still uneven as her gaze snapped toward the doorway.

And there she was.

Paige’s expression hardened instantly, her stomach twisting with a familiar, bitter anger.

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Shit,” Drew came skidding into the doorway behind her, breathless. “Paige, I’m sorry, I tried to stop her. I don’t think you heard me calling you.”

Paige’s expression softened just slightly as she glanced at her younger brother. She exhaled, steadying her voice. “It’s fine, Drew. Just go to your room.”

Drew hesitated, eyes flickering between the three of them, before nodding and walking away.

Paige turned back to the girl in the doorway, her jaw tightening.

The girl smirked as she glanced around, taking in the half-packed bags, the way Paige was still standing between Azzi’s legs, her lips slightly swollen, hair messy. “So it’s true, then.”

Paige didn’t respond, her expression unreadable as she just looked at her.

“I heard through the grapevine that you were leaving for UConn tomorrow,” the girl continued. “Didn’t believe it, so I had to come see for myself.”

Paige exhaled, shaking her head. “You saw,” she said flatly, stepping forward. “Now you can get the hell out.”

She moved toward the door, fully intending to escort her out of the house.

But just as Paige got close enough, the girl’s hand moved forward, fingers grazing Paige’s forearm as she smirked up at her.

Paige immediately yanked her arm back, her expression hardening. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

Azzi finally moved then, no longer frozen, sliding off the desk easily. She stepped forward, just enough for her presence to be felt, and let her gaze settle on the girl. She placed a hand on Paige’s lower back, fingers warm as she looked at her.

“You good?” Azzi asked.

Paige let out a shallow breath, her shoulders easing just slightly at Azzi’s touch. She turned her head just enough to meet Azzi’s eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“I’m good ma,” she murmured.

A scoff cut through the moment.

“You gonna introduce me to your friend?”

Paige’s jaw tightened, her entire demeanor shifting again as she turned back to face her ex. The softness Azzi had pulled from her was gone, replaced by something Azzi had never seen from Paige.

“You’re really not my problem anymore,” Paige said coldly. “You don’t get to ask questions. Much less speak.”

Azzi didn’t move her hand from Paige’s back, but her expression shifted ever so slightly as she connected the dots of who this was as she glanced between Paige and the girl in front of them.

The girl smirked, clearly unfazed. “Relax, P. I’m just curious.” Her gaze flicked to Azzi, giving her a slow once-over before tilting her head side to side as if to say “hm, not bad at all.” She glanced back at Paige. “She your new girl?”

Paige’s fingers twitched at her sides.

Azzi tilted her head slightly, as she stayed quiet. Letting Paige decide how she wanted to handle this, even though words were threatening to slip off her tongue

Paige took a small step forward. “You’re still standing here like I didn’t tell you to get the hell out.”

The girl smirked, tilting her head as she shamelessly looked Paige up and down, licking her lips in the process. "You're a little feisty now. I like it," she mused. "Where was this when we were together? I miss you."

Paige exhaled sharply through her nose as she clenched her jaw, forcing herself to stay still, to not give her the reaction she was so obviously fishing for. She knew this game. She had played it too many times before. Knew exactly what her ex wanted.

Azzi’s hand was still on her back, warm and steady—supportive. Paige focused on that instead, on the sharp contrast between the past and the present.

Eventually, Paige let out a low chuckle, the sound echoing in the room with something that sounded close to amusement. She took a slow step back, pulling Azzi with her, as if she was making it clear that she wasn’t engaging in whatever this was.

“You’re a narcissist,” she said lightly, shaking her head as if the whole thing was just funny now.

The girl’s smirk faltered just slightly at Paige’s complete dismissal, but she recovered, arms crossing over her chest.

Paige didn’t care anymore.

Paige turned her back on her ex completely, looking at Azzi instead, her entire energy shifting as she smiled softly at her, whispering, “C’mon, let’s go get some food.”

Azzi nodded, watching Paige grab a shirt off her desk before reaching for her hand. Paige laced their fingers together without hesitation, already focused on leaving, already done with the entire interaction.

But as they moved toward the door, they had to pass her ex, who stood unmoving, blocking the way just enough to force an interaction.

Paige tried to slide by without another word, without acknowledging her at all.

But just as she was about to pass, a hand landed on her torso, fingers pressing against the bare skin just below her sports bra.

“I’m really glad you’re not insecure about this anymore P,” the girl murmured, gaze flicking down to the scar that stretched across Paige’s stomach as she traced it with her finger.

Paige froze. Her breath caught, her grip on Azzi’s hand tightening as a dozen different emotions flickered across her face.

Azzi gently nudged Paige forward, coaxing her away from the touch. As they moved past, Azzi subtly bumped her shoulder into the other girl’s. The impact was a little harsh because of Azzi’s athletic frame.

When they got downstairs, Paige was quiet. Silent actually.

Her fingers were still curled loosely around the shirt she had grabbed, but she hadn’t put it on, her movements were slower, more distant. She was clearly lost in thought, her mind replaying something Azzi couldn’t quite gather.

Without a word, Azzi reached over and gently grabbed Paige’s car keys from her hand, giving a gentle tug on her wrist to steer her toward the car. Paige didn’t resist, just followed, her expression distant.

Azzi opened the passenger door and nudged Paige inside. Instead of closing it immediately, she lingered in the open space, standing just inside the doorframe, one hand resting on the roof as she leaned over Paige.

She studied Paige for a moment, then glanced toward the house.

“Are we just leaving her in there?” Azzi asked.

Paige, still staring blankly ahead, just lifted a hand and pointed toward the front door.

Right on cue, it swung open, and her ex stepped out her jaw tight.

Azzi huffed out a quiet, almost amused breath, shaking her head as she turned her attention back to Paige.

“Put on your shirt,” she said, her voice gentle.

Paige blinked like she had only just realized she was still holding it. She exhaled, then finally pulled it over her head, shaking off whatever was lingering in her chest.

Azzi waited a second longer, then leaned in just a fraction, her voice lower when she added, “You okay?”

Paige looked at her finally, and for the first time since they’d walked downstairs, something in her eyes steadied.

She nodded. “Yeah.”

Azzi held her gaze for a second more, making sure she was telling the truth before giving a small smile back and kissing her lips softly. Then she shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side.

As soon as Azzi slid into the driver’s seat, Paige let out a long exhale leaning back against the seat.

“I told you she was crazy,” she mumbled, running a hand through her hair.

Azzi hummed, starting the car. “So that was Leah.”

“Yup.”

Azzi let the moment settle before glancing at Paige again. “You never fully explained what happened. Just mentioned it randomly in passing in Paige fashion”

Paige chuckled, her jaw tightening slightly. She stared out the windshield for a moment, fingers drumming against her thigh.

“She cheated on me. Twice” Paige said simply, her voice steady but laced with something heavier as she thought about it. “Almost right after the accident.”

Azzi didn’t say anything, just let her talk.

“She was all in when things were good. All about me when I was the number one recruit, when everything looked like it was only going up from there. When I was on the SLAM magazine, had a million followers, had all the attention.” Paige paused for a second as she thought about it. “But after the accident? When no one knew if I’d ever get back to where I was. If I could even play basketball again?” She let out a short laugh. “She didn’t even pretend to stick around.”

Azzi’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as she listened.

Paige shook her head, still staring ahead. “I wasn’t even out of the hospital when I found out she cheated.”

Azzi inhaled as she thought about having to deal with that. She reached over, resting a hand over Paige’s. She doesn't say any words, no need for them—just the steady, grounding presence of her touch.

Paige finally looked over at her, her eyes softer now. She gave Azzi’s hand a small squeeze, then exhaled, leaning back against the seat.

“Anyway,” she muttered, trying to shake it off. “That’s Leah. She never fails to pop up every few months.”

Azzi frowned, glancing at her. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” Paige let out a dry chuckle, but there was no real humor behind it. “She used to get to me, get exactly what she wanted.”

There was a small silence as Azzi processed the information. Paige had already told her about how she fell into bed with her ex a few times. How she regrets it because she feels like every time it happened she lost progress.

“Let’s just get food,” Paige mumbled, letting her eyes flutter shut for a second. “I’m over it.”

Azzi gave her one last look before nodding and shifting the car into drive.

Azzi tapped her fingers against the steering wheel, glancing at Paige after about ten minutes of silence. “Why don’t you ever ask me about my exes?”

Paige, still leaning back against the seat, cracked an eye open. “Hm?”

Azzi glanced at her before looking back at the road. “I mean, you’ve told me about Leah and that other one—Bella, I think? The one you were just messing around with for a while.”

Paige let out a small chuckle, shaking her head. “Yeah, Bella.”

Azzi nodded. “But you’ve never asked me about anyone I’ve been with.”

Paige shrugged, adjusting the way she was sitting. “It’s in the past. It doesn’t matter.”

Azzi hummed, letting a few seconds of silence stretch between them before she said, “So when we run into them at UConn, then what?”

That got Paige’s attention. Her head turned fully now, eyebrows raising slightly. “Run into them?”

Azzi laughed, not even needing to look at her to know she had her full focus now. “That’s what I thought.”

Paige grumbled, shifting in her seat. “Alright, tell me about ‘em.”

“What do you wanna know?”

Paige exhaled, staring ahead. “How many?”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Gonna need you to be a little more specific, babe.”

Paige sighed, tilting her head toward her. “How many people have you slept with Azzi?”

“Ten. Including you.”

Paige nodded at this, not saying much else. She kept her gaze ahead.

Azzi studied her before breaking the silence. “That’s it?”

Paige glanced at her briefly before looking away again. “I’d really rather not think about the other people who’ve had you Az.”

Azzi hummed. “Hm.”

Paige frowned. “What?”

Azzi smirked. “I didn’t take you for the possessive type.”

Paige scoffed. “I’m not.”

Azzi’s smirk widened. “Mhm. Sure.” She paused for a second before adding. “I kinda like it, though. You know, you have your whole mysterious vibe with everybody else. Add the possessiveness to the mix and we’ve got ourselves…”

Paige turned her head to look at Azzi. “We’ve got ourselves what?”

Azzi’s eyes flickered with amusement. “A very attractive situation.”

Paige narrowed her eyes. “How?”

Azzi smirked, shifting her hand on the wheel. “Well, for starters, you don’t let just anybody in. Everyone thinks you’re this quiet, mysterious entity that doesn’t get caught up in emotions. But with me?” She shrugged. “You’re a little territorial.”

Paige exhaled through her nose as she chuckled. “I wouldn’t call it territorial.”

Azzi tilted her head. “No? Then what would you call it?”

“Just… I don’t like the thought of someone else touching you like that.”

Azzi grinned. “Yeah, that’s literally possessiveness, Paige.”

Paige sighed, shaking her head. “You’re annoying.”

Azzi laughed. “And you’re sexy when you’re annoyed.” She reached over, fingers grazing Paige’s shorts. “Admit it. You like when people think I’m yours.”

Paige finally looked back at her, a small smirk playing on her lips. “Oh yeah? And what about you?”

Azzi raised a brow. “What about me?”

“You talk a lot, but I don’t see you handling the thought of my ex too well either.”

Azzi scoffed. “I handled it just fine, thank you very much.”

Paige gave her a pointed look. “You literally shoulder checked her when you walked past.”

Azzi shrugged. “A little encouragement to move.”

Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “Right.”

As they pulled into the lot filled with different food options, Azzi parked the car, shifting into park. Just as she reached for the keys, Paige spoke up—casual, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

“Be my girlfriend.”

Azzi’s hand froze mid-motion. She blinked, turning to Paige, who was staring straight ahead like she hadn’t just completely caught her off guard.

“What?” Azzi asked.

Paige finally looked at her. “Be my girlfriend.”

There was a slight pause before Azzi murmurs, “You do that a lot.”

Curiosity flickering across Paige’s face. “Do what?”

Azzi turns her head fully now, studying Paige as she unbuckles her seatbelt. “You say or ask really important things like it’s the most casual thing in the world.”

Paige just shrugs.

Azzi let out a small breath, a smile tugging at her lips as she shakes her head.

“Alright I guess we’re doing this right now,” she started, reaching over to rest her hand over Paige’s. “We should probably talk about some things before we just jump into that.”

Paige turned fully toward her, eyebrows pulling together. “Like what?”

“Well, for one, starting tomorrow, we’re going to be teammates.”

Paige shrugs, barely reacting.

Azzi raises her eyebrows at the reaction. “Words, please.”

Paige exhales through her nose. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I just don’t see that being a problem for us.”

Azzi gives her a look, waiting for more of an explanation.

Paige holds her gaze, as she thinks. “We’re adults Azzi,” she continued, her voice steady. “And you know how to get me to talk if we ever have a problem.”

Azzi hummed, tilting her head slightly as she studied Paige. “But what if it does become a problem?”

Paige leaned back against the headrest, exhaling through her nose. “Then we handle it.” She turned her head to look at Azzi. “I’m really not worried about that. Are you?”

Azzi’s lips pressed together for a moment before she shook her head. “No. I just want to make sure we’re thinking everything through.”

Paige shifts slightly in her seat, her fingers idly drumming against her leg. “You know I think everything through.”

Azzi nods, a small smile on her face. “I know.”

Azzi ran her finger over the hem of Paige’s shorts. “Okay, one more thing.”

Paige looked at her, head tilting slightly. “Wassup?”

Azzi hesitated for a second before meeting Paige’s eyes. “What are we telling people? If anything.”

Paige licked her lips, leaning back against the seat as she shrugged again. “Whatever you want.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes slightly. “It’s going to affect you too.”

Paige shrugged. “You know I barely talk.”

Azzi exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “You’re going to talk to them eventually.”

Paige sighed, running a hand down her face. “Az, it’s really up to you. I don’t care about all of that. I just know I lo—” She caught herself, clearing her throat before continuing, “I like you, and I wanna be with you. We’ve been talking since like November and it’s June.”

Azzi watched her for a moment, a slow smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, we have.”

Paige tilted her head, a small smirk playing on her lips. “Okay, so?”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but there was nothing but fondness behind it. “Alright I’m your girlfriend.”

Paige smiled at her from where she was leaning against the seat, letting the words settle between them.

Azzi glanced away briefly before adding, “And just so you know, I only said yes because you’re you. If somebody else asked me to be their girlfriend like that, I’d look at them like they’re stupid.”

Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “Noted.”

As they got out of the car, Azzi shut her door and glanced over at Paige. “What made you ask now?”

Paige exhaled through her nose, rubbing the back of her neck before meeting Azzi’s gaze. “I didn’t like how I couldn’t say yes when she asked if you were my girl.”

Azzi paused for a second, her expression softening before a slow grin spread across her lips. “Awwww, that’s sooo cute.”

Paige rolled her eyes before swiftly pulling Azzi into a playful headlock, making her hunch over near Paige’s side as they started walking.

Azzi groaned, half-laughing, half-protesting. “You’re so annoying.”

Paige smirked, tightening her grip for a second

Azzi pinched Paige’s side in protest, squirming. “Let go.”

“Apologize first,” Paige said, completely unfazed.

Azzi let out an exasperated sigh. “For calling you sweet?”

They kept walking, Paige still keeping Azzi in the headlock as Azzi struggled lightly against her hold.

“You were being condescending,” Paige shot back.

Azzi huffed. “That’s a big word for Elmo.”

Paige immediately tightened her hold, making Azzi groan. “Paigeee, stop,” she whined, laughing through her struggle.

Paige finally loosened her grip but not before messing with Azzi’s hair. “That’s what you get.”

Azzi smoothed her hair down with a glare. “You messed up my hair.”

Paige, not even looking at her, shrugged. “Your hair’s perfect.”

Azzi mumbled something under her breath.

Paige glanced at her. “What was that?”

Azzi huffed. “I said… you’re lucky you’re cute.”

Paige smirked back. “What happens if I wasn’t?”

Azzi pretended to think for a second. “I’d be filing a restraining order.”

Paige chuckled. “That’s crazy, ‘cause last I checked, you’re the one always all over me.”

Azzi scoffed. “All over you? Please, let’s not rewrite history here Madison.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “Who was just playing with the string of my shorts two minutes ago?”

Azzi’s smirk faltered for half a second before she rolled her eyes. “That’s called affection, Paige. Look it up.”

Paige grinned. “Mhm. And the way you always gotta be touching me when we’re together?”

Azzi nudged her side. “Again. Affection.”

Paige shook her head, amused as she held the door open for Azzi. “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

…

3rd Person POV - Connecticut

Paige and Azzi had only slept together twice before Paige officially got to UConn’s campus. Those nights had been intense—fleeting moments that always left them wanting more, but distance and timing never allowed them to fully explore what they had. And yeah sure, Paige had helped Azzi out over the phone a few times, teasing her, talking her through it, letting her fall apart to the sound of her voice, but that was the extent of it. Until now.

They had only been at UConn together for a week, but they had spent every single day together, sneaking around, stealing moments when they could. It wasn’t like they were ashamed—only Caroline really knew the full extent of them, and Ice had suspicions after that one morning when Azzi walked in with Paige’s clothes on—but it was easier without everyone else knowing, for now.

But it was getting harder to act like they weren’t completely wrapped up in one other. Harder to pretend like they weren’t always gravitating toward one another, drawn in by something that neither of them had any intention of resisting.

It was currently Friday night and Azzi’s room had a soft glow from her bedside lamp. The air was thick with warmth, a mixture of Azzi’s familiar scent and the lingering heat between them. The sheets were slightly rumpled beneath them, evidence of the time they had already spent tangled together the day prior.

Paige was hovering over Azzi, her weight propped up on her elbows, their legs intertwined on top of the covers. The steady rhythm of their breathing filled the space, filled only by the soft sounds of their lips meeting.

Azzi let out a small, frustrated sigh against Paige’s mouth, her fingers tightening around Paige’s shirt as she tried to pull her closer. But Paige held firm, moving at her own pace, as she started pressing slow, teasing kisses along Azzi’s jaw before returning to her lips.

“Paige,” Azzi murmured, her tone filled with impatience. “Stop teasing.”

Paige pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. “I’m not teasing.”

Azzi scoffed, her nails grazing the skin underneath Paige’s shirt. “Yes, you are.”

Paige tilted her head slightly, a smirk tugging at her lips. “I don’t think so.”

Azzi let out a frustrated groan, her head pressing back into the pillow as she narrowed her eyes at Paige. “Then what would you call it?”

Paige trailed a slow hand down Azzi’s side. “Pacing myself,” she said smoothly.

Azzi exhaled sharply, her grip tightening. “You’re so—”

Paige cut her off with another slow kiss, swallowing whatever complaint Azzi was about to make, fully enjoying the way Azzi melted beneath her.

Azzi hummed into the kiss, her hands gripping at Paige’s waist as she deepened it, slipping her tongue past Paige’s lips. Their breaths mixed, the warmth between them intensifying as Azzi shifted beneath her, trying to pull Paige even closer.

But just as she began tugging at the hem of Paige’s shirt, ready to take it off of her completely, a sudden knock on the door made her freeze.

Azzi pulled away quickly, her heart pounding slightly in her chest as she glanced toward the door, her breath uneven. Paige, on the other hand, barely reacted. Instead, she smirked and rolled off Azzi, landing on her back with ease. She threw one arm behind her head, grabbing her phone with the other, looking as casual as ever.

Azzi cleared her throat, smoothing down her shirt as she propped herself up on her elbows. "Come in," she called, her voice just steady enough to mask the frustration of being interrupted.

The door cracked open, and Ice poked her head in, immediately clocking Paige sprawled out on Azzi’s bed, her arm lazily thrown behind her head, phone in hand.

"Man, I was looking for you," Ice said, stepping further into the room.

Paige didn’t even glance up from her phone. "Well, you found me."

Ice huffed. "Yeah, in Azzi’s bed." Her eyes flicked between them before adding, "You weren’t answering your phone."

Still not looking up, Paige turned her screen toward Ice, showing her notifications—or lack thereof. "Do Not Disturb."

Azzi, who had been trying to compose herself from moments earlier, fought the smile tugging at her lips. Paige and Ice had gotten closer over the past week, mostly because they shared a suite, but Azzi was just happy Paige was starting to feel comfortable with a few of them. She still had a long way to go, but this was progress.

Ice eyed Paige, then Azzi, suspicion all over her face. "Uh-huh… and what exactly were y’all doing?"

Paige finally looked at her, a smirk playing at her lips. "Talking."

Ice let out a dry laugh. "Talking?"

"Yeah, talking," Paige repeated, completely unfazed.

Azzi, still smiling, decided to step in before Ice started interrogating Paige for real. “Did you need something Ice?” she asked, shifting slightly on the bed.

Ice tilted her head, eyeing them both before responding, “I was trying to see if Ms. Nonchalant over there was coming out with us tonight. She’s the only one that didn’t respond.”

Paige shook her head no.

Ice groaned saying, “Bro come on, it's your first weekend on campus.”

Azzi didn’t hesitate, her smile widening. “Don’t worry she’s coming.”

Paige shot her a look, as if to silently say, What the hell?

Azzi didn’t break her gaze, doubling down with a nod. “She’s coming.”

Paige, clearly resigned, let out a sigh. “Guess I’m coming,” she mumbled.

Ice grinned. “Oh, so that’s how it is? Azzi just speaks for you now?”

Paige gave her a deadpan look, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Apparently.”

Azzi nudged her knee against Paige’s side, “You weren’t gonna come unless I said so anyway.”

Paige huffed, but didn’t argue, just went back to scrolling on her phone. Ice chuckled at the exchange, stepping toward the door. “Be ready in two hours,” she said, glancing over her shoulder before disappearing into the hallway.

Once the door clicked shut behind her, Paige turned to Azzi with a playful smirk. “You just signing me up for stuff now?”

Azzi grinned back. “You need to get out more.”

Paige rolled her eyes but leaned back on the bed, a smile curling on her lips. “You just want me to go because you don’t wanna be drunk without me.”

Azzi didn’t disagree, she just pushed herself to her feet. “Yeah, yeah. Now get up. We’re going.”

…

A few hours later, Paige and Azzi found themselves at Ted’s, the buzz of the bar wrapping around them. The night had passed with the two of them mostly enjoying their drinks in each other’s presence, as they casually talked. Paige easily slipped into her usual calm demeanor while talking to Ice and Aubrey whenever Azzi drifted off to talk to someone else on the team.

As the night wore on, the rest of the team began to get rowdier. Ice was animatedly teasing KK and Morgan, while Aubrey was loudly defending her ability to outdrink anybody, much to the amusement of everyone else. Azzi, though, had become a little more than tipsy, her usual sharpness softened by the alcohol. Paige had also moved past tipsy a while ago, but she was much better at holding herself together.

Azzi was now slightly draped over Paige, her head resting on Paige's shoulder, eyes half-lidded as she giggled and swayed a little. Paige stood near the bar, her arm hanging casually by her side, completely amused by Azzi.

Azzi mumbled something, but it was mostly incoherent, her voice just a soft buzz against Paige’s ear. Paige couldn’t help but smile, brushing a stray lock of Azzi’s hair from her face. “You’re cute when you’re drunk,” she teased.

Azzi’s head tilted up slightly, as she smiled goofily at Paige. “I’m always cute.”

Paige snorted softly. “You are,” she admitted, her fingers running gently through Azzi’s curly hair.

Azzi leaned into the touch, her smile widening as she watched Paige’s face. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she mumbled.

Paige chuckled, her gaze flicking briefly toward the rest of the team, still caught up in their antics. “I’m not sure I’m cut out for this kind of chaos,” she said, gesturing subtly with her head.

Azzi laughed as she pressed closer into Paige’s side. “You just need a little more alcohol in your system and you’ll be just like them,” she teased, her hand slipping into Paige’s as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Paige looked down at their intertwined hands, a small smile forming on her lips. She tilted her head slightly, voice low enough for only Azzi to hear. “I thought we were, quote on quote, hiding it for a little.”

Azzi scrunched her nose in an exaggeratedly cute expression. “Right,” she mumbled, pulling her hand back but not moving far, instead resting her head back on Paige’s shoulder.

There was a brief pause before Azzi mumbled, “You smell good.”

Paige glanced down at her, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Thank you, baby.”

Azzi hummed in response, leaning her face further into Paige’s chest, clearly settling in. Paige chuckled at the way Azzi was all but draped over her now, completely unconcerned with anyone else in the bar or what it looked like to their team.

Azzi’s voice was muffled against Paige’s shirt as she mumbled, “Can you get me another drink please?”

Paige exhaled a soft laugh. “I got you.” Tilting her head toward the table where the team was, she nodded toward it. “Go back over there and sit down for a little bit.”

Azzi peeked up at her with a lazy smile before pushing off of her without another word and making her way back to the table, plopping down beside Caroline. Paige watched her for a moment, shaking her head fondly before turning back to the bar to get the requested drink.

Azzi was comfortably leaning on Caroline, her head resting against her shoulder as she absentmindedly twirled the straw in her current drink.

Azzi barely registered Caroline’s voice at first, too caught up in watching Paige. Dressed in black cargos and a fitted black t-shirt, Paige stood at the bar with her back to her, casually waiting for Azzi’s drink. Azzi knew she had a chain on, hidden beneath her shirt, and she found herself wishing she could see it—maybe even tug on it, just to watch Paige smirk at her.

Azzi groaned internally. She knew Paige was attractive—anyone with eyes could see that. But seeing her all the time now, being around her constantly, made it impossible to think straight.

It was different now. Before, there had been space, the separation allowed Azzi to push away the thoughts creeping into her mind. But now? Now, Paige was everywhere. In the gym, in the locker room, sitting across from her at meals, lounging in her car like she belonged there.

And worst of all, Paige had to know. The way she would meet Azzi’s eyes with that damn smirk—like she was waiting for Azzi to say something, like she enjoyed watching Azzi struggle.

Caroline’s voice finally cut through her haze. “You aren’t doing a very good job at the whole discreet thing.”

Azzi blinked, turning her head slightly but not fully looking away from Paige. “Huh?”

Caroline chuckled, nudging Azzi’s shoulder. “You’ve been staring at her since you got over here. You’re not exactly keeping things low key.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, a grin tugging at her lips. “I can’t help that she looks good,” she mumbled, before tilting her head, her gaze drifting right back to Paige.

Caroline smirked. “Yeah, clearly.”

Azzi huffed a small laugh, finally pulling her gaze away from Paige long enough to meet Caroline’s eyes. “She kinda just got here, you know? I’m still adjusting.”

Caroline raised an eyebrow. “Adjusting? Azzi, you’re practically glued to her.”

Azzi grinned, shrugging as she finished her drink. “Maybe. But can you blame me?” She tilted her head toward Paige again, watching the way she leaned against the bar, her stance effortlessly cool. “She’s literally standing there, minding her business, and I can’t help but be drawn to her. I just..I don’t know. It’s hard.”

Caroline snorted. “You’re down bad.”

Azzi sighed dramatically. “I really am.”

“You know, it’s kinda wild seeing you like this. I’m so used to you being more casual.”

Azzi barely responded as she bit her lip, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth as she continued watching Paige. Just as she did, Paige turned around, locking eyes with her instantly—like she knew Azzi had been looking all along.

Azzi didn’t look away, didn’t stop biting her lip. Paige smirked at the attention as she made her way back to their table.

When she reached them, Paige handed Azzi her drink, her smirk still lingering.

“Thank you,” Azzi said softly, taking the glass from her.

Paige simply hummed in response, her eyes flickering over Azzi briefly before she leaned casually against the table beside her. She sipped from her own drink, gaze sweeping over the crowd, completely at ease.

Azzi, however, couldn’t stop watching her.

Azzi tilted her head up slightly, eyes locked onto Paige as she pursed her lips. “Why are you so far?” she mumbled, her voice just loud enough for Paige to hear over the music and chatter around them.

Paige smirked. “I’m right here.”

Azzi wasn’t satisfied with that answer. Looking up at her, she reached out, fingers hooking around the belt loop of Paige’s cargos, giving a small tug to pull her closer.

Paige chuckled at the gesture, shaking her head as she grabbed a chair and sat down right next to Azzi. “Better?” she asked, resting her arm on the back of Azzi’s chair as she took another sip of her drink.

Azzi just smiled, leaning into her slightly, satisfied now that Paige was exactly where she wanted her. “You always do what you're told?”

Paige raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching as she set her drink down. “Depends on who’s telling me.”

Azzi hummed, tilting her head. “And if it’s me?”

Paige exhaled a small laugh, shifting in her seat to face Azzi more. “Then I guess I listen… most of the time.”

Azzi playfully narrowed her eyes. “Most?”

Paige licked her lips. “Most.”

Azzi tilted her head slightly, studying Paige’s expression. “So we’re lying now?”

Paige let out a low chuckle, her fingers casually twisting the ring on her finger, like it was second nature. “I’m not lying.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, leaning in just a bit. “If I tell you to jump, you will.”

Paige met her gaze, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. For a second, she didn’t respond, just let the air between them settle. Then, she exhaled through her nose. “That depends. Are you jumping with me?”

Azzi smirked, tilting her head in mock consideration. “That wasn’t the question Paige.”

Paige let her gaze flicker over Azzi’s face, pausing at her lips, before settling on her eyes again. “I don’t just jump for anybody, Az.”

“But for me?”

Paige held her gaze, letting the moment stretch before she leaned back slightly, a small smirk playing on her lips. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”

Azzi leaned in just a little, her eyes filled with a slight challenge. “Hm…I’m sure there’s somebody in here that wouldn’t hesitate.”

Hearing this Paige took a slow sip of her drink, her jaw tightening slightly as she swallowed it. She exhaled through her nose, before looking back at Azzi. “That so?”

Azzi hummed, pretending to scan the room. “Mhm. Probably a few actually.”

Paige rolled her tongue over the inside of her cheek, setting her drink down with a soft thud. “You trying to test me, Az?”

Azzi turned her gaze back to Paige, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Just saying… some people wouldn’t hesitate for me.”

Paige leaned in closer, her voice soft enough only for Azzi to hear. “I know you’re new to this girlfriend thing,” Paige said, her tone completely composed, “but I don’t share.”

Azzi smirked. “Trust me, I know,” she said, though the hint of a challenge still lingered in her eyes. “But I just want you to tell me something.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the sudden shift in tone. “What’s that?”

Azzi leaned in a little closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Tell me you’ll do anything for me.”

Paige’s heart skipped a beat at the words, the weight of them sinking in. She leaned in just slightly, meeting Azzi’s gaze. “Anything, huh?” a smirk tugging at her lips.

Azzi nodded, her fingers lightly brushing against Paige’s. “Anything.”

Paige leaned in closer and Azzi's breath hitched slightly as her lips brushed against her ear. "I’ll do anything for you baby."

The warmth of Paige’s breath sent a shiver down Azzi’s back, and she couldn’t help but let a satisfied grin spread across her face. She met Paige’s eyes, saw how they were slightly dilated, how Paige looked at her like she was undressing her with her eyes.

Azzi leaned in just enough to make the space between them feel even smaller, her lips curving into that familiar, irresistible smile that made Paige’s heart jump. “You wanna leave?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m only here for you,” Paige replied simply, as if everything and everyone else in the room never mattered.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, a breath of satisfaction escaping her lips. She didn’t need to hear more. With a subtle nod, she pulled back, her hand moving to slide against Paige’s arm as she stood up. “Let’s go then.”

The two of them stood up, attempting to pass their teammates without bringing much attention to themselves and they were nearly in the clear—until Ice’s voice rang out across the bar.

“Paige!”

Paige stopped, turning her head with a raised eyebrow, silently asking what? Ice, still seated with the rest of the team, grinned. “Can I have a hug before you go?”

Paige scoffed, barely missing a beat. “No.”

The immediate chorus of laughter and dramatic boos from their table filled the space, Ice clutching her chest like she’d been personally betrayed. “I’ll get one eventually,” she called after them.

Azzi grabbed Paige’s wrist, tugging her toward the door. “C’mon, party animal” she teased, amusement laced in her voice. “Before they start trying to make you do another hopeless round of 21 questions.”

Paige let herself be pulled along, smirking as they stepped out into the night air, leaving behind the playful chaos of Ted’s—and everyone still inside who had no idea just how much she was willing to do when it came to Azzi.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

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steveseddie · 2 days ago

Text

come sleep with me

written for @steddielovemonth day 14 “come sleep with me: we won’t make love, love will make us” | the @steddiebingo kissing booth mini event, prompt: mutual pining | the @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: love

rating: t | wc: 915 | no cw | tags: friends with benefits, mutual pining, idiots in love

read on ao3

Any other day Eddie would be thrilled to have Steve like this– half-naked under him, flushed and squirming from Eddie kissing all over his chest.

Part of him sure is interested, but the rest knows that when Steve called earlier and asked him to come over, he probably should’ve said no.

But if there’s something Eddie isn’t good at, it’s telling Steve no.

Otherwise, how would he end up hooking up with Steve on the regular while knowing fully well that he was setting himself up for heartbreak?

So Eddie said yes, and he came over despite being physically and mentally exhausted from an entire week of awful nightmares. He thinks he’s doing a decent job at shoving it all away to pay attention to Steve. That is until he feels Steve’s hand grab hold of his neck and use it to pull him up so he can look at his face and ask– “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Eddie shakes his head, his hair falling around them. “Nothing,” he lies. Badly if the way Steve arches an eyebrow at him means anything. Eddie heaves out a sigh. “I– I haven’t been sleeping well. I’ve had nightmares all week. I’m so tired and there’s just so much in my head right now–”

Of course, Eddie doesn’t expect Steve to act mad or disappointed but he’s still surprised by how gently he brushes Eddie’s hair off of his face, his eyes soft as he stares up at him. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Eddie lets out a snort. “Yeah because telling the guy you’re making out with that you can’t stop thinking about demobats ripping into your flesh is such a turn-on,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Tugging at Eddie’s hair, Steve half-heartedly rolls his eyes. “I meant earlier, Eds.”

“I guess I was hoping that this was what I needed,” Eddie admits, shrugging.

“What you need is sleep.”

Eddie sighs. “Yeah, I know.”

When Steve gently shoves Eddie off of him, he takes that as his cue to leave. Especially when Steve walks over to his closet and puts on some sweatpants. Now that he knows nothing is happening between them tonight, it makes sense that Steve is getting ready for bed.

Which means Eddie should probably get out of his way.

He just found his jeans and is about to put them back on when Steve tosses something at him. It lands at his feet– a pair of sweatpants.

“Do you need a shirt too or are you sleeping shirtless?” Steve asks, still rummaging through his closet.

Eddie stares blankly at his naked back. “Um, what?”

“Do you want to borrow a shirt?” He asks, glancing at Eddie over his shoulder. His lips tug up into a smirk when he adds, “I have a Tears for Fears shirt you’d look great in, I think.”

Eddie takes too long to think of a comeback and Steve frowns, probably expecting him to jump at the thought of wearing a shirt of a band that plays anything other than heavy metal. And he would, if he wasn’t busy trying to wrap his head around the fact that Steve seems to think he’s staying over.

He’s never done that even after they started hooking up.

Steve’s eyes dart to the jeans Eddie is holding in his hand. “You weren’t planning on sleeping in those, were you?” He asks with a chuckle.

“No, I– I was gonna go home.”

Steve’s mouth twists downward. “Why?”

Because they don’t sleep together. They have sex and then Eddie leaves. It hurts every time, but he knows it would hurt more if he stayed and woke up next to Steve –or, god forbid, in Steve’s arms– only for it not to mean anything to him.

“I– we never– we don’t do that–”

“I know,” Steve says, sucking his lip between his teeth. “But what– what if I want us to do that?”

Eddie blinks. “Sleep together?”

“No, yeah,” Steve rubs a hand against his neck, “but also, um– other things.”

Eddie’s breath hitches. “Like?”

“Like going on dates and cuddling and holding hands, maybe not in public but like, in front of our friends if you’re okay with that and–”

“Steve, Stevie, are you– are you saying you want to date me?” Eddie asks, his voice an octave higher, his heart threatening to beat right out of his chest.

“Yeah,” Steve softly admits and Eddie can’t help but gasp. “But I– I promise I didn’t feel this way when we started this, and I was going to say something to you, but I was nervous that you didn’t–”

“I did! I do! Feel that way. Since before we started this, even. If anyone should’ve said anything, it’s me,” Eddie stammers out. “I thought I was setting myself up for heartbreak when you eventually found someone else and stopped wanting me–”

“I wouldn’t, I won’t. In fact,” Steve says, starting to smile. He moves closer to Eddie, one of his hands brushing against his fingers. “I’m crazy about you, Eds.”

“Jesus, Steve,” Eddie mutters, and then he’s cupping Steve’s face and bringing him closer so he can kiss him squarely on the lips. It’s not the first time they’ve kissed, but it’s definitely different.

“So,” Steve starts, pulling back only enough to get the words out. “Is that a yes?”

“To dating you?” Eddie asks, their lips brushing together. Steve nods.

And well, Eddie still can’t say no to Steve, so he says–

“Yes.”

#steddie #steddie fic #steddielovemonth #steddiebingokiss #steddieholidaydrabbles #three prompts wrapped up into one cute fluffy little fic!#happy valentine's day enjoy x #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #monse writes

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maniculum · 2 days ago

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This resonates with me as my extended family has a similar fixation on preserving family names — though they’re not as creative with it, I have to say. There’s no Roy-Emmet-Jack rotation or first-syllable approach, just “well whose name hasn’t been passed on to the next generation? great, that’s the baby’s name now.” And nobody’s as bad off as poor Breathnach Thomas.

I have a couple cousins with unusual or old-fashioned names that get funny looks — I’ve had multiple exchanges along the lines of “your cousin WHO? did you mean [more common name that kinda rhymes with what I said]?” “no i did not.” A bunch of us go by our middle names for one reason or another. Two of my cousins-once-removed have entirely normal, common first names that I genuinely don’t remember because they’ve been referred to by their middle names since infancy despite those middle names sounding like last names. I have one cousin whose first & middle names are both common but also firmly gendered in different directions: I won’t dox them, but it’s along the lines of “Frederick Jane Lastname” because there was a traditionally-female name that needed to be given to someone and the only available baby was AMAB. My sibling ended up joining the “go by the middle name that sounds like a last name” crew a while back, but that was for gender reasons.

I’ve got one of the more inconvenient-for-paperwork names, actually, which I’ll explain under a cut because I ended up going on a bit.

See, my grandfather was named after his maternal grandfather. And his mother had changed her name when she got married, but wanted to give her son his grandfather’s full name, so he ended up with two middle names. Firstname Middlename Maidenname Lastname. Nobody really liked the sound of “Firstname”, though, so he always went by Maidenname Lastname. Then he named his son the same thing, who named his son the same thing, so I’m Firstname Middlename Maidenname Lastname III. All of us agree that Firstname isn’t a good one, so we all go by variants of Maidenname Lastname. (Which means we’re all also on Team “Middle Name That Sounds Like A Last Name Used As A First Name”.)

The maiden name in question — I’ve almost certainly mentioned on the podcast what “Mac” is short for, but rather than dox myself in a text post, let’s say it’s “McKenzie”. Convenient in that it contains two syllables that are at least semi-normal names. So my grandfather always shortened it to “Mac”, and then to differentiate, rather than use one of the other surplus names, my father went by [not actually] “Ken”. My father once told me that he pitched the idea of using the last syllable for me (not actually “Zie”, but something else that in no way passes as a standard name) but was vetoed, so I’ve always been another Mac.

You would be surprised how many forms, both physical and electronic, are against the idea of two middle names. I’ve seen my second middle name squished into my first middle name to make a single word, or hyphenated with my last name, or just deleted — which is unfortunate because it’s the one I actually use. (I fully agree with my father & grandfather that “McKenzie Lastname” is the best-sounding use of our nomenclature inventory.) So I’m constantly explaining to various bureaucrats that yes, this thing that says “Mac” is referring to me, I know your system says my name is Firstname, but I go by my middle name (a practice that is in itself apparently less common than i always thought growing up) — it’s short for McKenzie — yes, I know that your system doesn’t say my middle name is McKenzie, it wasn’t designed to handle four-part names and just deleted that one — yes i’ll hold.

When I was younger, I wanted to change my name to get away from the problem — my idea was to just chop off both the first name and the last name, then I’d have the entirely normal-sounding Middlename McKenzie — but never got around to it, mostly because I was also worried that a name change could just multiply my paperwork complications. Once I’d committed to an academic career, though, I kind of came around on it, because if I just use the first two names as initials, “X. X. McKenzie Lastname” turns out to look pretty good as an author name on papers & such.

The latest paperwork issue has been how this interacts with my current employer’s “preferred name” form. It doesn’t let you enter a full preferred name (like “X. X. McKenzie Lastname”) and say “okay use that one”, and it doesn’t have a “just use my middle name for everything” option. So it turns out that the only way HR could get the system to call me “McKenzie Lastname” was to tell the computer my name was actually McKenzie Middlename McKenzie Lastname. I’ve decided to live with it.

Random question, could you give some ideas on Irish names your family may have in the 1950-60s? I got a character with an Irish grandpa with 9 brothers and sisters (3 brothers and 6 sisters) and I only got the oldest sister name (soairse) and his name (Caine). I guess I could just name the rest some form of jack and Margret since those seem to be popular, but I wanted to see if there were some “interesting” names you found in your family tree that maybe one of the siblings got named after some ancestor?

Firstly for the sake of clarity: I'm American, not Irish. All of my ancestors for the last 4-5 generations have lived here, and while I like learning about the language/music/culture, I am absolutely not an expert. I HIGHLY recommend getting a sensitivity reader, I'm sure someone in the comments can wave at you if they're willing to take on the job.

Second, Triple-check the spelling, pronunciation, meaning and provenance of any names you do choose, and ABSOLUTELY DO NOT TRUST ANY BABY NAME WEBSITES, they're basically all AI slop at best. The best written-down lists and meanings are actually on Wikipedia.

Third: If you want to learn more Irish names, you can look up the names of like, any Irish musician or artist. I think spotify still has Genre Playlists, if you look up "Irish Folk" you'll get a shitload of names of Real Irish people- and hey, if Hirohiko Akari can name all his characters after 80's pop bands, you can make a subtle ref to modern musicians. Also you'll get a bunch of fun music! --- So while I was writing this, I somewhat departed from the intent of this response, and am putting the last point under a cut because the post got long. And weird.

So there is a thing in Irish-american families, and I think it's true in the British isles still where there are "Family Names", where the same set of first names is recycled over and over and over across generations. My dad's family has exactly three male names that they rotate through over the generations: Roy, Emmet and Jack*. In that order, where the son takes the father's first name as his middle name. My great-grandfather was Roy Jack Surname, my grandfather was Emmet Roy Surname, and my dad is Jack Emmet. My sister and I were AFAB, so the names skipped us and my male cousin in my generation is now Roy Jack. In the event that there are more than three living men with the same surname in the family, that's when they start reaching for the Given Names Of In-Laws We Like and might introduce a new name into the lineup.

*Names changed for privacy above and hereafter, but you get the idea.

So if any of your characters are descendants of that grandpa? They may share a first or middle name with one of his siblings. in fact, they may share the SAME first and middle name with a living relative, and be called "Junior" or "Young Firstname" to distinguish them from the relative they were named after.

My mom's family is from England and has a similar tradition: any new girl born into that family gets a name that is based on the name of one of her living female relatives, usually by sharing the same first letter or syllable. Elanor after Eloise, Vivian after Virginia, and also Jenny after Virgnia via 'Ginny' and every variation of Margret ever, which there are way more of than you'd think.

I cannot recommend doing what they did with Male names though: Name literally every boy Bob* for like five generations, and distinguish individuals by middle name (Bob-Howard and Bob-Benjamin) surname (Bob-Jones and Bob-Bailey) or Honorific (Captain Bob, Dr. Bob, Bob Jr.) when yelling out the kitchen window.

Most families have to good sense to not have the same name repeated in a generation, even if it has a shitload of nicknames. A mother and daughter might both be Margrets (with different nicknames), but two sisters or cousins wouldn't be.

If you've got in-laws you like, but their surname didn't carry over to their kids, you can also just use their surname as a first name! "Regan" is a first and last name, as are Riley and Bailey. This works out in some cases but not in others:

I have a pretty rare surname- last time I checked, there's only 14 people with it worldwide. It's similar to two other VERY COMMON Irish Surnames, but spelled different and from a different region. It's also Very Definitely A Surname- nobody would see my surname alone and think its a firstname.

Since I don't want to bandy it about, we'll pretend that it's "Breathnach", which has a similar vibe.

My Iowa family is Enormous and all descended from my Great-Aunt Lilyanne, Emmet-Roy's sister. Being a good catholic girl, Lillyanne took her husband's surname when she married, and most of her descendants still have that surname, and none have Breathnach.

After the last of my grandfathers grandchildren were born my Iowa family was sad- all but one of Emmet-Roy's grandchildren was female, and my male cousin has his father's surname. Assuming that we would all marry and take our spouses names, the Iowa family despaired that that the Breathnach name would die out!

So one of my second cousins decided that she would Carry On The Family Name, by giving it to the son she was carrying as a Firstname.

Yeah.

Being "Breathnach Surname" is bad enough, but this was compounded by the fact that the Iowa family's surname is Thomas.

YEAH.

My poor cousin Beathnach Thomas, who always has to re-do his paperwork because NOBODY ever puts the names in the correct boxes, who had his first name printed on every jersey he ever had because the uniform place went "that can't be right!", who cant buy his own beer because he's had so many drivers licenses confiscated because liquor store owners and bartenders think his ID is a fake, who has to not only spell his name to everyone he meets, but explain it too.

Then I made it worse.

I ran into cousin Beathnach in Bozeman, Montana quite by accident a few years ago, and while catching up, I mentioned that I was married.

"You know, it's a real hassle, but I'm kind of glad I've got the name I do. I'd heard you sister changed her name, and now with you married- I'd be sad to think we were running out of Breathnachs, you know?" he laughed.

I had to explain.

I married the most wonderful man in the world, who has an extremely common first and last name. Which was kind of a problem, because he shares it with some truly rotten people that always come up during background checks and he has have to explain he's not THAT asshole. It also sounds like and is only a letter or two off a lot of other very common names so his mail is constantly sent awry.

My husband will shortly abandon his too-common-for-comfort surname and become the newest Breathnach, taking the total to 15 (the paperwork takes a while).

...So the name lives on through us anyway, and poor cousin Breathnach Thomas went through all that for no reason. He got very quiet, got up from the table and walked outside to the veranda of the restaurant we were in to stare into the picturesque scenery for a while.

"Well, it's not like people change their first names..." he sighed, when he returned to the table.

"...You know how my sister changed her name? She only changed her first name. She's still a Breathnach." I explained quietly.

I've never seen a man look so haunted.

"I know lots of people who've changed their first names, actually. Mostly for transgender reasons, but a bunch because they just didn't like the one they were given." I added, because if he's going to get his world turned over, it's best to flip it all at once.

His brow furrowed at the ponderous speed of a continental collision, approaching the idea with caution. "...I'll have to think about it."

It's been about a year, but since then, I'll get a text from him every few weeks, auditioning a new given name. I do my best to be fair- I give him the meanings of those names, how they're likely to be misconstrued (some are tolerable annoyances, some pose a safety risk), and if he'd be sharing that name with anybody notable or troublesome. The first few were clearly based on Breathnach, but he began to branch out, and the trend of names has indicated that the idea of Naming Himself is causing my cousin to examine himself, and come to some Realizations (TM).

I realize I have gotten completely off-topic from your actual ask, but I urge you to really get into the nuance of nomencalture, because a name can tell a fascinating story.

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vampyr-ss · 3 days ago

Text

yes, daddy | t. fushiguro, s. kong

summary: your daddy’s tired of you distracting him during the game & uses your uncle shiu to teach you a lesson

pairing(s): step-dad!toji x reader x step-uncle!shiu

warnings: dark content (18+) + stepcest + double penetration + creampie + throatpie + degrading + no real prep + squirting

wc: 3.6k (unedited)

others: happy post-super bowl & happy valentine’s day!! this was originally supposed to be on sunday but a lot came up. not particularly proud of this, but i’m happy to finish it! anyways, go birds!! fly eagles fly!!! 🦅🦅🦅

toji’s done his absolute best to be patient with you. you’ve been acting differently lately, more rambunctious and seductive. he can’t trust himself to be alone with you because of how you look at him when you are alone. he knows what you want, and he’s willing to give it to you. more than, actually. before today, toji has given you plenty of warnings and plenty of chances. he’s told you that he can’t do this, that you need to be outright or you won’t get what you want.

he should’ve known you’d only get worse when he invited shiu over for the super bowl. your eyes had always lingered on shiu when he came to visit. he recognized those lip bites and the gentle flutter of your lashes when your uncle spoke to you. you used the same tactics on him. you always wore the smallest amount of clothes around the house. your ass would barely be covered by your shorts or your shirt would be tight enough for him to see the outline of your nipples through the thin fabric.

toji believes this is his fault. your mother’s gone to get more food and you immediately disappeared upstairs, giggling as you went. you’d returned in your panties and an eagles shirt, leaning over the couch to speak to him. “daddy have you seen my philly sweatpants?” your voice is soft and low, eyes shifting over his face as toji glances over the couch. his eye twitches when he spots your thong—the smallest thing he’s ever fucking seen. there’s no way your cunt is fully covered. “haven’t seen them, baby.” he murmurs, though his attention hasn’t slipped from the thin material covering your pussy.

“you don’t need ‘em sweetheart.” shiu chimes in, eyes glued to your ass. he smiles at you as he pats the space between them on the couch. “come watch the game, baby. your daddy’s been waiting for this.” he emphasizing the silly title you use for your stepfather, raising his eyebrows at you. your face flushes, clearly not expecting this response, but you round the couch to sit anyway. the leather’s cold against your bare ass and goosebumps begin to rise on your skin.

more often than not, toji has impeccable self control. he restrains himself every time you come prancing around and damn near nothing with shy smiles and wide eyes. but right now? the game’s going to half, the eagles are losing by a field goal and irritation is beginning to claw at his chest. he clenches his jaw as his eyes stay glued to the tv purely to prevent himself from acting on instinct. “what’s wrong, daddy?” you purr sweetly from beside him. your hand rests on his thigh, chest pressing against his arm.

shiu huffs a quiet laugh from beside the two of you. “the game’s not going well, sweetheart. but, didn’t i tell you,” he pauses to grab you by your jaw, squeezing your cheeks so harshly that it forces your lips to pucker. “didn’t i tell you days ago not to distract us during the game? and here you go in your tiny fucking panties showing your ass off to the world.” you pout your lips at him in return the best to your ability, whining softly when his grip tightened on your face.

"'s not the whole world. jus' you and shiu." you mumble with false shyness, fluttering your eyelashes at toji. he rolls his eyes, "if you wanna be the main show so fucking bad, show me what you want." toji's words are low and angry, almost like he's been waiting for this--and he has. you freeze briefly, eyes searching his face to see if he's serious. his green eyes peer back at you expectantly, waiting for you to make your first move.

your hands almost immediately slide to his pants, eagerness rushing through your body. you didn't care if you'd come across as desperate or like some sort of slut, you just wanted toji in you and you wanted it now. toji tuts at you, his hand coming over your own to keep you from pulling his sweatpants down. "no, i want your pussy baby. don't forget your uncle's over there." he juts his chin towards shiu whose eyes are glued to your nipples poking through the fabric of your eagles tee.

shiu watches you evenly. his eyes are low and his gaze predatory, but you don’t find yourself wanting to escape. you want him to fuck your throat raw. you want this. you turn from your step-dad to his best friend, gingerly placing one of your hands on his thigh before leaning in to kiss him. shiu tastes like smoke and not the good kind. you've dated a weedhead or two, you've liked how they tasted, but the taste of tobacco is new and not entirely unwelcomed. your nose scrunches a little making shiu laugh against your mouth. his tongue is quick to press against your lips to be allowed past your lips.

you allow him in with ease while your hands fumble with his belt. you can't see toji, but you know he's enjoying this. he's possessive, but that's why he wants your pussy. shiu can fuck your throat for all he cares, but your cunt is all his. "c'mon, you're gonna kiss him to death. open wide and do what you're here for, baby girl." toji's deep and irritation-riddled voice sounds from behind you. you slowly pull away from shiu. his eyes slowly follow your movements. "show me what you had in store for your daddy, hm? let me see how nasty you are, pretty girl."

you can't deny that shiu's words send a shockwave through you. your pussy clenches and your mouth waters despite yourself. "yes sir." shiu chuckles, pressing one more smoke-scented kiss to your lips. his big hand tangles into your hair the second your lips disconnect, his eyes are low on your face but desire burns bright in them. your fingers make quick work of his zipper, desperate hands pulling at his pants and then his boxers.

shiu’s long. you don’t know what you expected, but his dick is long and curved. your heart stutters at the sight of it, mouth watering and pussy clenching. toji huffs from behind you as his palm flattens your back, forcing you to arch your ass in front of him. “go on, suck his dick. i know you want to, pretty baby.” you glance back at him for confirmation, pretty eyes narrowed in both suspicion and submission. toji may be letting you suck his best friend off, but at the end of the day you’ll be his. that was why he was getting your cunt and shiu was only allowed your mouth. this is all in good fun.

your lips wrap around shiu’s cock eagerly. your tongue slides over his tip, digging into the slit briefly before you swipe your wet muscle down and along his shaft. shiu grunts but doesn’t make any absurd noises, his fingers tightening in your hair. the pain that comes with the tug of your hair makes you moan. it’s loud and nasty, and it makes shiu’s hips jerk up and into your mouth. your tongue flattens as you move further down on his cock. toji busies himself with pulling your thong to the side though he doesn’t do anything else.

with your lips still wrapped around shiu, you wiggle your ass back towards toji. the cold air’s hitting your wet cunt and you’re starting to wish he would just touch you. you’d beg him to if your mouth weren’t full. “fuck her throat, shiu.” you look up at him through your lashes, watching your uncle look to toji with an eyebrow raised. “you sure she can take that? she’s barely taking half o’ me.” he juts his chin at toji as he asks the question and his hand grips your hair briefly before he scratches at your scalp affectionately.

“that doesn’t matter, shiu. she’ll take what you give her. ain’t that right, honey?” toji smacks your ass for emphasis, forcing a whine from your filled throat. your eyes flutter shut to relish in both the pain stemming from your ass and the brief touch of toji’s hand on your body. they open again to meet shiu’s heated gaze. you nod the best you can with his dick in your mouth, placing a pretty hand at the base to pull him out with a soft pop!. “i can take it, uncle shiu.” you purr softly, pressing his cock against your face. “i’ll be good, i promise.” you bite down on your lip as you watch him through your lashes.

shiu’s never been the greatest man, but right now he wonders what he did to get blessed with this sight. his cock twitches against your face forcing pre-cum to smear across your cheek before dribbling down to your jaw. “then don’t cry to me when it’s too much, okay?” shiu’s lips split into a shit eating grin. the hand he’s kept in your hair grips at your strands impossibly tight. he guides your now-open mouth to his dick as he practically slams his dick inside of you waiting throat. you gurgle—loudly—but neither your uncle or daddy care. if anything, toji laughs while shiu groans.

shiu watches as your eyes roll back into your head the moment he starts to roll his hips up and into your throat. his grip on your hair tightens, and toji watches with a smirk. “so fuckin’ slutty.” he murmurs. toji slaps both of your ass cheeks one more time before he spreads them experimentally. your asshole clenches out of both instinct and anticipation whilst your cunt practically drools at him. toji licks his lips, trailing a finger through your sobbing pussy. “she’s so fucking wet, shiu. i’d let you see but this is all mine,” he pauses to stick his fingers in his mouth. “fuck. she’s so sweet.”

the couch shifts under you and shiu as toji moves so one knee is on the couch. he spreads your ass once more to get a good look at your holes. he spits into your ass, watching affectionately as it’s pushed back out at him. toji finds himself mesmerized at the way your pussy glistens under the lights of the living room. you’re so fucking desperate that it’s making his cock harder than it’s ever been in his life. toji slides his tongue through your folds in a slow teasing motion. he starts at your clit, licking upwards until he finds your asshole. his tongue lingers there, sliding into your tight hole that invites his tongue in greedily. toji feels more like your ass is eating him than the other way around.

your daddy’s tongue slides out of your ass with a wet pop! but it isn’t long before his mouth is attached to your cunt. his fingers keep you spread open for him whilst his tongue assaults your pretty pussy. you groan around shiu’s cock at the sudden pleasure, gripping his thighs to keep yourself grounded in some way. shiu ignores your sounds to chase the feeling of your tight throat around his cock. your mouth’s so fucking good and he truly cannot help himself. shiu watches your face carefully as he tries different rhythms opposed to ruthlessly fucking your throat. he rolls his hips a certain way, watching the tears beginning to form in your eyes.

“fuck, toji, she’s a crier.” shiu’s voice leaves his lips airy from disbelief. there are tears sliding down your cheeks the further into your throat shiu fucks, and now that toji’s eating your cunt there’s snot beginning to dribble from your poor nose. “of course she is.” he hisses as he pulls his mouth away to shove a thick finger into your pussy. “she’s a desperate fucking slut, she’s gonna cry when she finally gets what she wants. it’s in her nature. isn’t it, slut?” toji curls his finger inside you for emphasis, and you howl around shiu’s cock. he groans, finally slipping his cock from your mouth. “how the fuck did you-shit! should’ve married this fucking mouth.”

your eyes widen at both shiu’s words and toji’s finger inside your pussy. your nails dig into shiu’s thighs to ground yourself from the pleasure thrumming through your body. you can barley see from the tears clouding your vision, you can only feel. feel toji sliding another fat finger into your pussy. feel shiu slapping his cock against your lips. feel yourself drench toji’s fingers. you’re practically blind in this interaction, but fuck is it worth it. your body feels so so good, this was better than what you were asking for with just toji. “she’s barely loosening up.” toji grunts. “just keep her throat busy, i’m not patient enough for this.”

your lips part to ask what he meant, but your question dies in your throat as toji’s tip slides into your cunt. you had an idea that toji was big but fuck does it hurt. your stomach burns at the sensation of his fat tip breaching your walls and your pussy clenches hungrily around him. “fuck, i can’t even get in her.” he hisses, spreading your cheeks to get a good look at your pussy swallowing his fat tip. “shiu, keep going. she needs to get wetter or i’m gonna rip this pretty pussy apart.” toji tuts, pressing a hand on the middle of your back to make you arch. “but, i think she wants that.”

as toji forces himself further in you, shiu stops toying with you and forces your jaw back open. he smears some of his cum across your lips. “you’re so pretty like this. i don’t know why he waited so fucking long.” you whimper softly at the compliments shiu shower you with, watery eyes darting from his face to his dick. shiu hums, sliding his dick back into your throat slowly. “should’ve been a good uncle and taken care of you and this throat, hm?” his words are strained, but you can still feel the meaning behind them. he’s been wanting to fuck you. this is just the beginning.

you can’t figure if it’s from impatience or feeling ignored, but toji shoves himself fully inside you in one harsh thrust. you lurch forward, choking on shiu’s dick as you scream the best as you can with your throat filled. shiu hisses from the vibration, pulling your head fully down on his cock to shush you. “shit, baby. you’ve been hiding this from me?” toji practically hisses his words at you. his fat cock’s splitting you open so fucking good.

your cunt squeezes hungrily around him to try and pull him in to keep him there. you can feel how wet you are, and even with that toji can barely pull back out of you. toji’s hand comes down on your ass. “not fuckin’ letting me go, huh? you this greedy? you got your uncles cock in your mouth and your daddy’s dick in this pussy but it’s not enough, is it?” his words are meant to hurt your feelings, but you clench. it’s nasty and absurd, but you like being used like this. you want them so badly it hurts. toji doesn’t give you a true chance to reply because he’s pounding your pussy as soon as he realizes you’ve heard him.

toji’s hips snap aggressively against yours, heavy balls slapping against your pussy from how hard he’s fucking into you. your fingers dig impossibly deeper into shiu’s thighs, eyes watering from how full your cunt and mouth are. shiu’s grip on your hair tightens—he ignores the choked sounds leaving your throat and the way his pre-cum’s sliding back down his cock along with your spit. you look so messy like this. there’s spit trailing down your face and neck, tears sliding down your cheeks and snot sliding from your nose. you look pathetic and it’s only turning him on more. your daddy’s grip on your hips is bruising. your hips hurt from the gee minutes he’s been fucking you, but somehow you don’t mind.

your cunt clenches at the thought of the bruises showing, that your mom will ask you what happened and you’ll have to come up with some stupid excuse. your step-daddy likes fucking you better, and you’ll be the only one to know. “she’s so sloppy, baby.” toji murmurs to no one in particular. he releases his grip on one side of your hips to rub harshly at your clit. you cry out, back bowing and eyes rolling further into your head. “i’m gonna cum.” shiu groans, shifting his grip from your hair to the back of your throat. he forces your head to stay in place, opting for jutting his hips into your throat like a dog in heat. your eyes flutter open just to see his face as he cums down your throat. you’d never describe shiu as pretty, but the way his face flushes, his lips part, and his eyes roll make you realize you want this to never end.

shiu’s cum is hot and salty as it fills your throat. you’re choking before you can think about it, sealing your lips around his dick the best you can. your tongue swirls around his tip to collect more cum the longer his orgasm lasts. you fight through the tears and the burning sensation filling your lungs and nose to take all of his cum, swallowing dutifully around him when his aimless thrusts into your pussy finally end. “fuck. toji you’re never keeping me from this fucking mouth.” he mumbled tiredly, pulling his softening cock from your mouth. “let me see, pretty girl.” you stick your tongue out for him, letting him see that you’ve swallowed it all.

“see, shiu? she’s a natural slut. born to be fucking bred.” toji chuckles, wrapping his big hand around t your throat to pull you against him. “c’mon, give me this cunt. need you to cum on daddy’s dick, can you do that, princess?” your throat hurts and so does your cunt. toji’s failed prep forced your pussy to stretch more than it had in years. you can only nod under his grip, eyes stuck on shiu as he watches through his lashes. toji pistons in and out of your cunt at a pace you hadn’t thought to be humanly possible. it feels like he’s in your stomach, his cock’s fat and long and it makes your stomach shift.

your poor pussy’s never handled anything so big before, toji almost feels bad. almost. scarred lips press against your neck hungrily. toji bites and sucks on your neck while his free hand wanders. he pinches your nipples to force a muted scream from you, back bowing from both pleasure and a need to escape. “can’t take it-oh! can’t take it anymore, ‘m gonna cum daddy.” you cry softly, voice nearly gone from the throat fucking you’d taken before. “don’t fucking tell me, just do it.” he pinches your clit for emphasis, laughing in your ear when your knees try to buckle. your cunt clenches and the knot in your stomach grows tighter with every thrust.

toji shifts his hips just slightly and it’s as if an explosion was set off in your body. your vision blurs as an unknown sense of euphoria flushes through your body. you don’t know if you cried out, if you screamed, or if you just fell limp against toji. your orgasms never been this strong in your life. you feel like you’ve been undone and put back together all in one moment. your eyes flutter open in time to see your pussy spray on the couch leaving various wet stains. shiu leans over to attach his lips to your clit, and you scream. “no! no more please!”

your stepfather and uncle ignore your cries, toji’s thrusts get harsher as he chases his orgasm. you can feel his fat cock shift in your stomach, you can feel him twitch as his orgasm nears with every thrust. another orgasm threatens your pussy with shiu’s lips still stuck on your pussy. your hands push at his head to no avail because he continues sucking. toji grunts, tightening his grip on your throat as his orgasm finally hits him. “fuck, i’m gonna get you pregnant baby.” he laughs breathily in your ear. “make sure this pussy can’t go anywhere, can’t take anyone else.” his eyes shift to shiu, who’s pulled away to kiss you again after swallowing down your second orgasm.

“i’m-‘m so full, daddy.” you whimper against your uncle’s lips though your words are aimed towards toji. shiu laughs, slapping your cheek affectionately. “if we had more time you’d be fuller than that, princess. be glad he’s the only one that came in that pussy today.” toji pulls out of you, hissing as he goes. you find yourself missing the warmth and fullness of his cock inside you. the same longing you felt for shiu’s cock in your throat. “maybe one day we’ll both get you pregnant. see who’s baby it is.” he presses one more kiss to your lips, a kiss of finality. he actually meant what he was saying. “can’t,” you trail off, “can’t do that! what if-” toji’s aggravated voice cuts you off. he shoves his fingers into your pussy to keep his cum from leaking out. “doesn’t matter if someone finds out, this is my pussy now sweetheart. your uncle shiu’s too, if i feel nice. ain’t that right?” you glance between the both of them, pursing your lips before nodding in defeat. “yes, daddy.”

#dark content #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #dark smut #jjk smut #stepcest cw #tw pseudocest #tw stepcest #jjk #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #shiu kong #shiu kong x reader #shiu kong smut #shiu x reader #shiu smut

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pacofprunes · 2 days ago

Text

NO TIP?

pairing — racer!jeno x reader w - noncon, misogyny, g - dark, smut | masterlist

summary — you had been working on a new paint job for a pretty well known racers car. when he comes in to pick it up and you tell him it won’t be done until tomorrow, he switches gears and starts being a total asshole. you tell him to just get out, but he makes sure to give you a tip before he goes.

a/n — hencheri got this stuck in my head after this and this specific post, so i had to make something about this

you’d been working on a paint job for a pretty well known racers car for a couple days now. you think the guys name was jeno? you worked at a car shop but you didn’t keep up with that type of stuff. you hadn’t actually met him, but you were the one who’s been doing all the paint work for him. a new shiny coat on his expensive car for his show. you’d kill to have a car like this, it was nice as fuck.

you heard the door open and you realized it was probably him. you forgot that you hadn’t called to let him know that it’d be another day as the car needed some more time to dry. you fully prepare yourself for him to be a little angry, but you could’ve never prepared yourself for what he’d do instead of throwing a few snarky remarks at you. he walks up to your counter and eyes you up and down with an almost confused look on his face before he looks back at his car and turns back around to face you.

“i’m here to pick that up. should be under the name jeno.”

you cough before biting the inside of your cheek preparing for an outburst of some sort.

“sorry sir, it should be fully dried by tomorrow. it’s still a bit tacky.”

you swear he gave you a dirty look, but whatever, it was better than him screaming at you. you couldn’t speed up how fast a car could dry. if you could, you would, it’d make your job a lot easier.

“are you the one working on my car?”

“uhm, yes?”

he scoffs before looking back over at his car once again. he mumbled a “no fucking way…” under his breath and you just rolled your eyes before turning around to reach something hanging on the wall behind the counter.

“so then you wouldn’t know if it’s done or not.”

you still for a second and laugh slightly under your breath before you turn back to face him. what the hell was he talking about?

“sir, i worked on it, therefore i know that it’s done…even if i hadn’t painted your car, which i did, it’s pretty obvious to anybody that your car isn’t done. you can go touch it if you want, it’s still sticky to the touch.”

you hadn’t meant for it to come out with such attitude, but he was literally doing the same thing to you. you knew he was a racer or some shit but that doesn’t mean you should just bow down to him.

“i hope you’re not expecting a tip.”

seriously? he probably makes thousands a month and he can’t spare you a fucking tip? look at that nice ass paint job you just did. a gorgeous bright red, and it’d look even better when it was completely dry and shiny. you just ignore his comment and move over to him at the register.

“cash or card?”

he just slams the cash on the table without making a sound and you go to count it before he opens his mouth for yet another snarky remark.

“you really think i didn’t give you enough? you think i don’t got enough money, huh?”

you have to hold back from giving him a dirty look which was insanely hard by the way, and you’re sure you gave him some sort of look anyways because he made sure to give you a nasty look right after you had felt your eyebrows scrunch together at him.

“i have to count, sir. it’s got nothing to do with my personal beliefs. despite you not tipping..”

he slams his hand on the counter and you knew he had heard you.

“so, what? you’re just some greedy bitch who’s tryna empty out my pockets?”

you would have just told him to take the car and go but it’d literally be done by tomorrow and he already gave you the cash and you knew with his status that it’d be made into some huge deal. you put the money into the register and step back before placing your hands against your hips.

“excuse me? you can leave. you can pick up your car tomorrow since you already paid. unless you’ve got anymore questions, you can see yourself out.”

he looks down at the counter for a second before you see his fingers start to grip against the glass.

“i’ve got a few questions actually, ma’am.”

he takes a step towards the entrance of the counter.

“how long you been working here?”

he doesn’t give you a chance to answer before he take another step towards the opening to enter behind the counter.

“you’re a woman, what makes you think you have any business working here?”

he’s standing right at the opening to the counter now and you open your mouth but a small sound only gets the chance to slip out before he cuts you off again.

“you want a tip so bad, right?”

he’s takes his last step and is now fully behind the counter, standing right in front of you and staring you down intensely. you take a small step back and he quickly grabs your shoulder, his finger nails digging deeply into it.

“so why don’t i fucking give you one.”

he immediately turns you over by your shoulder and presses you against his back, wrapping a hand around your waist so you couldn’t get away from him. the place was empty, you were meant to close up tonight. you didn’t know what the hell he wanted. he literally just paid you the exact cash you needed, no way it was a robbery. you curse at him to let you go but he pulls you from behind the counter and over towards his car. he feels you up on the way there, forcing a hand into your pants and attempting to finger you, and that’s when you realized what he wanted and what was going to happen.

finally, you let out at least five screams before he slams a hand over your mouth. you were standing in front of the hood of his car now and you could feel his boner poking you right in the ass.

he continued to shove his fingers into you mercilessly and pulling out every few seconds to add a weak attempt at providing your clit attention. you stomp on his foot and he lets out a pained sound and a “you fucking bitch” before he pulls his hand out of your pants and shoves you onto the still tacky sticky hood of his car. you put your hands onto the side of the hood to push yourself up but he quickly presses his hand against your back to hold you down. you try to swing your arms back at him, hoping to hit something, but it does nothing, obviously. his other hand is still tight on your face and it’s threatening to slide up and cover your nose.

“what’s up with you uptight bitches, huh? thought you wanted a tip? i’d say fucking with a racer is a pretty big tip, right?”

he pushes your pants down along with your panties before you hear a belt from behind you and your pathetic squirms below him get more intense and reckless.

“you wanna be a bitch, right? i’ll treat you like a bitch then.”

and right then, he pushes his dick right in you. no easing, no stopping, he just goes right into you and immediately starts thrusting. you start to whine underneath him and you move your feet up from the floor hoping to hit him, but he just steals your idea and kicks you right in the back of your calf, hard. you immediately scream into his palm and feel like you’re sinking deeper into his car. you just lie there for a little, breathing heavy and you move your eyes up slowly and through his windshield you’re able get a slight look at the situation. you felt disgusting. you could see the sweat sticking to his face, his bangs bouncing with every relentless movement. and from how much you were sticking to the car, your body barely even moved from all the thrusts he was making. all you heard was the slight creakiness and bouncing of the car and his grunts and shitty moans. you hated him.

“you feel how big this tip is slut? wanna complain like a stripper not gettin’ enough money.”

he leans down into your ear and his thrusts suddenly quicken like a machine.

“maybe this’ll teach you not to take men’s jobs. what’s a woman like you even doing in an area like this?”

you whine against the palm of his hand and you just shake your head no. not at anything he said in particular, but just the whole situation. you try to mumble a few ‘stops’ underneath his palm, and you know that he hears them. you know he understands you don’t want this, but why the fuck would he care? was this really all because you were working at a job predominantly done by men…? seriously? when you feel yourself squeeze around him and hear him laugh, you feel absolutely disgusted with yourself and your body. your pussy was getting wetter and wetter, finally making noises everytime that his balls slapped against it. you get frustrated and you start sobbing angrily into his palm, stomping like a child against the floor. you would kick him again, but you knew the next time he kicked you right back, it’d be ten times worse than the first time. and so what if you managed to kick him off of you anyway? you wouldn’t get that far. he was ten times bigger than you and with your pants halfway down your legs, you’d trip over your own feet before you could even get one step in. the only thing you could do was wait until he was finished.

when you feel his fingernails squeeze into your back and feel something leak down your legs, you know exactly what it is and just pray that that’s enough and that this is all over. and when you hear the fabric of his pants brush against his legs and his belt clasp, your hopes have been fulfilled. or at least that’s what you thought. he didn’t release the palm that was on your mouth, only having moved his hand off of your back, now giving you more room to squirm. but he doesn’t let you get up. he moves the palm from your mouth to your head, pressing your cheek into the car and you can only yell so much in a position like that.

“get off of me! take your car and just go!”

you hear him scoff from behind you and you feel him circle his fingers on your clit before sliding them alllll the way down your slit until finally pushing them into your embarrassingly wet hole.

“you’d think after all that you’d get rid of that bitchy fukin’ attitude.”

he continues to finger you but once you feel him push a third finger in, you have to stop a moan from slipping. you try to move your hands up the car to create as much distance as you could between you and him. it became painful to do so as the paint had started to dry to your hands, but you continued anyways. but it wasn’t doing anything though, his fingers only follow you.

“we’re gonna stay here until you stop your bitching.”

and that’s when he slips a fourth finger in and you can feel yourself clench, and this time your body doesn’t let go, holding onto his fingers for dear life and he lets out a sick laugh. the moment you can tell that you’re about to cum all over his fingers, you try to push yourself up the car even more, becoming desperate, but it only encourages him to play with your clit as well now and he pushes your face harder against the car.

“i’m sorry—i’m sorry! okay? you can have the car for free—please!”

he scoffs and ignores your whining and continues to thrust his fingers into you. you became desperate, okay? what more could you do besides beg him to stop? he didn’t like your attitude? okay then, maybe your begging for mercy would detour him! but that’s not what he wanted. he wanted to strip you of any confidence and pride that you once had. he wanted to absolutely humiliate you. and when he saw you finish all over his fingers, he knew that had had. he immediately pulls his fingers out and he slaps your ass while laughing before moving back and you can hear him fumbling with something. you quickly push yourself up off of his car and it feels as if the skin is about to be ripped off of your face, but luckily, none comes off. when you finally free your face from the car hood, you’re met with a sight that would forever be engraved in your mind. your face print was totally embedded into his car. your hand prints littered it as well, and although your work top prevented a perfect outline, your chest was imprinted on there as well.

you quickly pull up your pants and go to move back but he quickly walks up beside you and throws an arm into your shoulder before looking down at you.

“it looks good doesn’t it?”

you just stare at it in disgust and he throws his shoulder off of you before taking a step back, grabbing his wallet and reaching in it before throwing a couple sorry ass twenty dollar bills at you like you were some stripper and a white strip of paper that lands on the car. you pick it up and realize it was a ticket to one of his shitty racing shows.

“you’re lucky i’m giving you one for free, front row too. better see you there, i want you to see my awesome new car design in action.”

he points to the prints on his car and you snap your head up to him, face wet with tears and painted with concern. you didn’t want to keep that shit on his car. so what if people didn’t know that the face print was yours? that’s humiliating as fuck! he squats down to your level as if you were a child and throws a hand onto your arm, squeezing it threateningly.

“if those prints aren’t still there by the time i pick it up tomorrow, i can assure you that you’ll see me again.”

he straightens his knees again, menacingly looking down at you before slowly removing his hand from your arm, dragging out every second before his hand finally drops and he simply just walks away. you just stand there stunned, money surrounding you and his car staring you dead in your face.

you turn to your side to get one last look at it. what were you supposed to tell your boss about what the hell that was? you can see yourself once again in the reflection of the windshield, your face has red paint all on its side and your hair is sticking up in a million different places, bits of paint stuck in it as well. a million showers would never be able to wash away what happened tonight, and a crummy hundred dollar tip didn’t make up for it either.

you stare the money dead in the face and let your tears drip onto the numbers printed on the paper. you’d be thankful if you never got a tip from somebody ever again.

#tw noncon #nct smut #nct x reader #jeno x reader #jeno smut #lee jeno smut #lee jeno x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream smut #dark nct x reader #dark nct #dark jeno #dark jeno x reader #yandere nct #yandere nct x reader #yandere jeno #yandere jeno x reader

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moonbaby26 · 2 days ago

Text

Title: Anniversary

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Notes: Sorry, only a very short oneshot. All I got for Valentine’s Day was the flu 😅. I’m still out in left field somewhere mentally. But I had to at least try and post something for our man, or else the cosmic scales would fall further out of balance over here.

Pirate!Reader/GN!Reader x Doflamingo, NSFW, unprotected sex, ejaculation, very minimally proofread

Fic Masterlist

—————————

“So you’re telling me that the kingdom of love and passion doesn’t even have a specific holiday for romance?” It was amazing you could speak at all right now to ask. But you didn’t get to see him often. Multitasking was just part of both your busy lives.

“If you needed a special day just to remember this, then that would be pitiful, now wouldn’t it?” He grunted with some humor in response, shoving you down into the mattress yet again as his hips kept rocking.

The moonlight was flooding into your captain’s quarters through the portholes. Your crew hopefully none the wiser while the both of you got this very welcome fix, and that tell tale smell of sweat and lust filled the space.

Anytime your ship was near enough to his island in your raiding routes through the New World, Doflamingo would know. And he would come. Flying through the night to land on your deck and prowl below to claim what you still so freely gave him.

How many other of his so called “allies” that he did this with, you had no idea. But you could always pretend you were somehow special as he massaged those powerful hands around your hips and thighs.

The delusion was enticing enough as you contracted around that penetrating cock with another stifled moan.

“Yes…such a good pet.” He breathed with that tightness.

You could hear the unevenness growing in his dark voice too. And it only made your stomach tense even more with the brief praise.

He would alternate from absolute pounding to a more hypnotic rhythm that left you defenseless. So deep, so stretched, no one could ever compare to the things this man could do with your body.

The only man you wanted this from at all these days.

And maybe he already understood that. There were strange hints here or there. Like in the way his fingers sometimes loosened their grip again. The way he’d wipe your sweat or overwhelmed tears away before they could interfere with your desperate eyes he liked to stare down into whenever he pulled out to flip you back over.

“You want me to stay tonight. Don’t you, dear?” Those white teeth bared shamelessly. But his expression wasn’t the threat it might be to his enemies. Not with him still pumping his hips so purposefully as he plunged back inside you and your back arched in the next wave of euphoria.

You amused him so much. He enjoyed this game each and every time.

“Please…yes, just until morning.” That would only be a few hours from now. “I know it’s a lot to ask…please…” You never minded begging him.

“How very needy. I have an empire to run you know…” He angled himself, changing the feel so quickly.

You cursed and he laughed as your fingernails scraped deeper along his back. The vibration of his voice’s sound like music, frightening but further addictive

“Silly little animal…clawing and hoping. Always wanting more…” He chided without ever stopping.

He never stopped until he’d filled you to the point of dripping. The mess of him running down your ass before his weight collapsed on top of you in all his post orgasm panting and grinning.

His legs were too long to even fit on your bed if he’d fully stretched out. But he never did that either.

Doflamingo curled around you as he pulled you onto your side without ever removing his now softening cock.

“You only get until sunrise. I have other places to be tomorrow.” He managed to somehow still sound haughty even with beads of sweat glistening that broad chest.

But you were just soaking this in, no complaint at all while he held you. “Yes, sir. Understood.”

Maybe one day he’d let you call him Doffy. Yet you were pressing your luck far enough already. You couldn’t ask for more as he pulled your blanket over the two of you once the surges in body heat had finally quelled. The king of Dressrosa warmed your bed all the way until dawn on your pirate ship.

——————————

Admittedly you’d been happy enough in all of that for days too. Your good mood had carried well over into the next week. Though it had finally tried to falter when after stopping in the next port, your crew had been giving you the oddest looks when you’d come walking back aboard after fencing much of your stolen cargo in town.

They were too nervous to tell you something.

“Some of the Donquixote soldiers paid us a visit while you were away.” One of them finally confessed.

And you’d had to steel your expression, concealing the momentary panic that ran through you.

Because had you done something wrong after all? Had you gotten too comfortable in this very unbalanced working relationship?

But your crew would tell you nothing more. As if they’d been ordered not to when they only awkwardly said for you to check your quarters next.

Your legs felt weaker even as you’d walked so fast to go below deck and face whatever this would be.

Once someone fell out of favor with Doflamingo, any punishment was possible, any horror that man may imagine for his newest victim.

You’d thrown the door to your captain’s quarters open expecting the worst.

And then you’d stood there, briefly unsure if you were hallucinating as you could barely even see the floor.

Vases and bouquets littered the small room as if a field had blossomed in just the few hours you’d been away. The floral scent was like a slap to the face as your eyes moved from one color to the next.

Roses, lilies, orchids, tulips, and more. Every color, every height.

You’d had to walk so carefully just to navigate between them in your astonishment. Towards the largest vase of all that held cut down sunflowers.

A bright pink vase with a large envelope emblazoned with a struck through smiley face.

Your hands might even have been trembling a little as you’d ripped that envelope open to retrieve the letter within.

The handwriting was done with such flourish and purpose as you read it quickly.

“As I said, dear, I don’t believe in limiting myself to a single day to show my appreciation or desire.

But it appears you are starting to think differently on these things. And if my pretty pet seeks such superficial validation, then at least have the decency of choosing a more meaningful day to do it.

Holidays like you spoke of began solely for the unwashed masses. But I’m wounded you seem to have also forgotten what day it will be for us by the time you are reading this.

The anniversary of the agreement of our two crews to first ally and your inevitable subjugation to me that followed.

I didn’t know your favorite color or favorite flower. This small variety will have to suffice for now. On your next pass near Dressrosa I expect you to make this up to me.

Do not keep me waiting.

Happy anniversary until then.

-Doffy”

Your bed was about the only thing not covered in flowers as you sat down hard upon it.

You now had an anniversary.

And it was the day you’d first placed your life into a pirate alliance with a man who could destroy you all with only a flick of his fingers.

But this was him choosing to do otherwise.

This was him saying he did want more.

He wanted more of you.

Your navigator looked at you like you were a wild thing recently broken free from a cage as you’d come back onto the deck in a rush with that letter still clutched in your hand.

“How many nights until we could make it to Dressrosa?” You’d asked even if you were still smart enough to know the cost.

Your brain knew at least.

It was your heart that was now a whole other matter.

——————————

End.

Thank you for reading! 💘🦩💌

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inseobts · 17 hours ago

Text

Undercover Lovers

zoro x reader

while waiting for luffy and the others to return from whole cake island, you and the rest of the crew are forced to go undercover in wano, where your and zoro's cover as a loving couple quickly gets complicated.

words count: 1.2k

tags: wci and wano spoilers, fake dating, romance, soft zoro

masterlist || ko-fi

You and Zoro stand in the shadows of the misty Wano streets, hidden in plain sight. The night is thick with tension, and the smell of the night air is saturated with the scents of food and unfamiliar spices.

“Alright” Zoro mutters under his breath, his gaze darting around. “This mission is simple. We blend in, gather intel, and keep a low profile. No trouble.”

You glance at him skeptically “Simple? Nothing here is simple, Zoro. Especially when we have to pretend to be a couple...because I don't know if you looked at yourself”

Zoro, ever stoic, adjusts the sword at his side “It’s just an act. Play the role and we’ll be fine.”

You don't know who has this brilliant idea but you're hating them all.

You scoff “That’s what you think. I don’t think you fully understand what it means to pretend to be someone’s lover.”

He grins faintly “I think I do. You make it sound like I'll be terrible at this.”

The two of you exchange a glance, the awkwardness palpable. You had to assume this would happen, but the idea of him being your pretend lover makes your stomach flutter in a way you didn’t expect. You’re both meant to lay low while Luffy, Nami, Chopper, and Brook are rescuing Sanji on Whole Cake Island. But you and Zoro are left behind, needing to keep the rest of the Straw Hats safe while undercover.

“Now, let’s go” Zoro commands, the stoic warrior in him taking over. “Remember, just act natural.”

You and Zoro enter a local tavern in the heart of the capital. The noise from the patrons fills the room, but everything about this place feels off, like a hidden danger lies in the air. As soon as the door swings open, all eyes turn to you, and the tavern goes silent.

The bartender raises an eyebrow “What’s this? A foreign couple?”

You force a smile and link your arm with Zoro’s, making sure your posture looks casual and affectionate “Yes, we’re just here to enjoy the local food and drink” you say, your voice smooth.

Zoro stands beside you, towering and quiet, his gaze scanning the room. His posture is stiff, uncomfortable, and it’s clear that he’s not used to playing the role of someone’s lover.

“You’re an odd couple,” the bartender says, a smug smirk on his face “The woman seems more… lively. And you...” he eyes Zoro, “look like a man who could care less.”

Zoro barely glances at the bartender “I’ll take some sake.”

The bartender nods, but there’s a smirk on his face “Of course. For you two lovers, the first round’s on the house.”

You exchange a look with Zoro, both of you realizing that staying in character would be harder than it seemed. As the drinks arrive, you take one and drink it slowly, trying to hide the tension in your shoulders.

As days pass, the two of you work together to gather information, keeping up the act as a loving couple. But things become more complicated when one young local guy, Miyamoto, starts showing more interest in you than you’re comfortable with.

You’re sitting in a quiet corner of the town square, Zoro casually sitting by your side, when Miyamoto approaches with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Ah, y/n” he says smoothly “I didn’t expect to see you here. Care for a walk?” His eyes flicker toward Zoro before returning to you “I can show you some of the best views in the town. Perhaps Zoro doesn’t mind… after all, I’m sure he’s busy with his… training.”

You blink, slightly taken aback by his boldness. You glance at Zoro, but to your surprise, he’s sitting there, arms crossed, his usual indifferent expression masking any emotions.

“Zoro’s fine” you say quickly, trying to shut down Miyamoto’s advances “We’re fine here. And besides, I’m not one to leave my loving companion behind.”

Miyamoto chuckles, though the sound is more mocking than playful. “Loving? You don’t have to pretend, you know. I’m sure Zoro would be fine with me taking care of you for the evening”

This is making you mad, not just his advances but also Zoro sitting them like nothing was happening, not even caring to look over you and notice the uncomfortable air around you.

You clench your fists and you're about to storm out of there until Zoro finally turns his gaze toward Miyamoto, narrowing his eyes. His usually passive attitude shifts, and there’s an unmistakable tension in the air “You’re making a mistake if you think I won’t mind and I would let you”

You watch the exchange carefully, feeling the air grow thick with unspoken words. Miyamoto takes a step back, and Zoro’s eyes briefly meet yours, the unease in his gaze not going unnoticed.

It’s late into the evening. You and Zoro are once again walking through the dimly lit streets of Wano, the mission nearing its end. The tension from Miyamoto’s advances still hangs in the air, and for the first time, Zoro seems a little different.

“You’re quiet” he remarks, glancing at you “You looks upset since that last meeting with Miyamoto, are you?”

You look at him briefly "pretty much yeah... I was feeling uncomfortable and yet you waited that long to even say something"

"I knew you could handle it alone"

"Well... I actually couldn't"

He suddenly stops walking. His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he says nothing. You can feel the weight of unspoken words pressing between you.

Then, with a sigh, he finally speaks.

"For the record, I didn’t like it either" Zoro mutters, voice quieter than usual.

You blink at him, caught off guard "What?"

His gaze flickers to the side, as if reluctant to say more "That bastard...Miyamoto. The way he looked at you, the way he talked to you." His grip on his sword tightens. "It pissed me off... but if I did something we would have been in bif trouble"

After a pause he continues, “I didn’t like the way he looked at you” Zoro says, his voice unexpectedly serious.

Your heart stutters in your chest, unsure of whether you’re hearing things “What?”

Zoro glances at you, a slight frown tugging at his lips “I told you. I actually didn’t like the way he was talking to you. He was crossing the line”

You feel a warmth spread through your chest, unsure whether it’s the alcohol or something else making your heart beat faster “Zoro…” you start, but your words fail you.

“Forget it” he says gruffly, looking away as if the conversation never happened. But there’s something different in the way he speaks, something real this time.

You pause, staring at him. Could it be that… the act was becoming more than just a mission? Was Zoro feeling the same as you were?

“Zoro” you start again, but before you can say anything more, he steps forward, closing the gap between you two. His hand touches yours, almost like it’s an accident, but when he doesn’t pull it away, you realize it’s not.

The moment stretches on, and you can feel the tension dissipate into something new.

Without thinking, you lean into him “Maybe this act wasn’t so bad after all.”

Zoro stares down at you, his eyes flickering with something indecipherable “Maybe not” he replies, voice low and barely above a whisper.

He takes your hand in a better and firm way now and start walking again, hand in hand.

You smile at him, a small blush on his cheeks, trying to avoid your eyes. And for the first time, you wonder if the lines between the pretend lovers and real feelings are starting to blur.

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tkwrites · 2 days ago

Note

regarding your reblog about quinn sitting out for four nations….. i’m sure sarah would also be very relieved that he’s prioritizing his health, but i’m now also so curious how you think sarah would have dealt with the whole situation leading up to now….. i.e., quinn playing with his injured hand for weeks, the fact that they kept sending him back out in that one game when he was clearly in so much pain and couldn’t even make it through a shift (the game was basically over anyway!), and even just the process of him making the decision to skip four nations. how do you imagine sarah was feeling about all of it and how outspoken do you think she would have been about her concerns? do you think quinn was asking for her opinion? do you think the topic caused any sorta tension at all? (rambly as hell as per usual mb)

Well, this took on a life of its own (rambly as hell in my own way).

We're going from injuries and Sarah's worry that Quinn is putting himself at risk for the team, all the way to her keeping to her Valentines Day plans despite the fact that they're spending the lead up to the day together.

I had this idea for Sarah gifting Quinn lingerie to get him hyped for her arrival in Montreal on Valentines Day, and I just couldn't let it go, so you get everything together.

Warnings for lots of angst, and then lots of teasing and longing at the end. Also, some praise kink stroking.

Hope you enjoy even though it's a little chaotic!

Though they live together, and they’re fully committed, she’s still not quite sure what her place is in this situation and how much she should say. All Sarah wants is for Quinn to not push himself too hard. To not injure himself any further.

They first talked about it when he decided to join the team mid-way through the road trip after his hand injury. This caused a minor argument. She thought he shouldn’t go. He felt like the team needed him, and, as the trainers told him, he couldn’t injure his hand any more than it already was if he took the proper precautions. To him, it was a no-brainer.

“You’re not the only person on that team, Quinn,” she said as he was packing.

“Yep, that’s the definition of a team.”

“I just…” She bit her lip, trying to figure out how to make herself heard. “I know you’re the best player on the team, but —”

He stiffened, “no, I’m not.”

“Statistics don’t lie, Quinn.”

He turned from his suitcase then, “but what?”

The way he was looking at her, all hard edges and determination made her pause.

“But what?” he demanded again.

There was no good way to say this. “But, if they can’t figure out how to play without you, I’m worried you’re going to run yourself into the ground trying to keep them afloat.”

Anger flashed in his face before he turned back to his packing, “you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe not,” she acquiesced, “but I’m worried you’re going to hurt yourself even more. Isn’t it worth taking time off to heal?”

“I have to help them,” he said, voice sounding like it was cut from glass.

“Quinn, I know you want to win, but…” she trailed off, leaving out the at what cost?

“We need to win these games, or we miss the playoffs.”

“I know, but —”

He slammed his suitcase closed. “I’m going, okay. I can’t hurt my hand any more.”

She winced, mind racing with images of someone targeting his injury, slashing him, or slamming him into the boards to guarantee it would get worse — keeping him out of the game even longer.

The way she was looking at him, resigned and… almost frightened, made Quinn pause for half a second. His shoulders dropped, “I have to go, Sarah.”

“Have to?”

“Yes. I have to help however I can.”

Even though she’d thought this would be the outcome of this argument, she had to fight for him, even if he wasn’t going to fight for himself.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Her soft voice was like a punch to the gut.

“I’ll be careful,” he promised, pulling a half smile onto his mouth.

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, but she still drove him to the airport and kissed him goodbye, hating the scratchy feel of the brace straps when his hands cupped her face.

“I’ll call you when I get there,” he promised.

She nodded, “Please be careful.”

“I will,” he promised. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said, giving him a sad smile goodbye.

He finally understood the guilt Mysey talked about when he came back from injury as soon as possible last season.

The night he injured his oblique, she was watching from home (of course), wincing through the whole game. Everything felt off with JT suddenly gone. Then, near the end, when they announced Quinn was off the bench, her heart started to race, and she grabbed her phone, hoping he’s sent her some kind of update. He didn’t until after the game, and after she’d watched him try, and fail to skate the way he usually did more than once, knowing it wasn’t Tocc throwing him out there, but Quinn throwing himself out on the ice.

When he came home, wincing at every movement, she watched him with big, worried eyes.

She didn’t talk to him when he went to the rink for the following game, angry that he was so blatantly ignoring his own welfare. She even thought about not going to the game at all but ultimately decided that would cause more damage than she wanted to repair. It was a nice surprise when he appeared next to her to watch the game. Relief flooded through her, knowing that the trainers and coaches wouldn’t let him play, despite his insistence he could push through.

As the tournament loomed closer and closer, and his injury was getting better, but not healed, she felt stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Quinn is competitive and intense, and hockey is something that brings him an enormous amount of joy. She didn’t want him to miss this opportunity to play for his country and with his brother and best friend, but she knew he just couldn’t. Hearing his grunt of pain when he sat up in bed each morning was enough to tell her he couldn’t feasibly play. His hand injury, though persistent, didn’t affect much of their everyday life, other than she’d been on top most of the time, which neither of them minded all that much. But this was different. And both of them knew it.

When he finally announced he wasn’t playing, relief swept through her life like a wave. She’d even contemplated calling Jack to beg him to make Quinn see sense. The fact she didn’t have to made her feel almost giddy. If he hadn’t been so sad, she would have danced around the house in celebration.

The only thing she was a little sad about was the change to their Valentines Day plans. With school, she’d been planning to fly out to him on Friday night, and had care packages packed to sneak into his suit case, something to open on the 12th, 13th and 14th to get him excited for her arrival.

She stuck to the plan, even though they were home, leaving a gift out for him to find each morning.

When Quinn got up to go to PT on Wednesday, he had a text from Sarah. Don’t forget to open your gift!

He had no idea what she was talking about.

The gift she was referencing turned out to be a black silk drawstring bag, no bigger than a sheet of notebook paper, left on the dining room table. The tag tied to it read, This time, you get to choose. Package 1 of 3, which will it be?

When he opened it, he pulled out a swath of meshy lace. Blue, to match his jersey. It took him a while to figure out which way was up, but once he did, he couldn’t help the noise that crawled up his throat. It was a lace body suit. Sheer and stretchy. Just imagining Sarah in it gave him an instant boner.

He brought it up after she got home that evening, but she just patted his knee with a coy smile, “you have to wait to see all three options before you can make a choice.”

“There was only one thing in that bag!”

“I know,” she said, pressing a teasing kiss to his mouth, “they were supposed to go in your suitcase, so you’d be excited to see me on Valentine’s Day.”

“They?” he demanded.

“There are more,” she said simply, sauntering out of the room and leaving him feeling breathless.

“You’ll get the second tomorrow,” she called over her shoulder.

He groaned despite the excitement that reared in his stomach.

The next morning, after a restless night of wanting, another black bag appeared. This one on the bar counter. Two is the middle, but will it win of the three?

His fingers brushed something soft when he reached inside, and for a moment, he thought it might be empty before he realized the thing he was touching was made of the same material as the bag. He pulled out a pair of little silk shorts, trimmed in lace, then a matching black camisole. Compared to her gift from the day before, this seemed incredibly tame. All the same, he had to admit, he wanted to see it on her. He knew it would be her perfect brand of comfortably sexy.

The thought of her in the little silk set popped into his mind even more than the blue number had. The blue lace was a fantasy — one he definitely wanted to see come to life — but the silk was real, something he could see her wearing often. He could imagine sliding it off her when they settled into bed on a normal Tuesday night.

The image of her curvy thighs swathed in the slippery material assaulted his thoughts so often, he practically jumped on her when she got home from work, cornering her against that same bar counter where she’d left the gift that morning.

“Hi,” she said, giggling against his mouth.

“You’re driving me crazy, you know that?”

“Am I?” she asked, innocently batting her eyelashes.

“Why don’t you put this on?” he asked, fingering the lace where it lay on the counter behind her.

“You have to see all three,” she said, easing away from him. “Pick which one’s your favorite.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to wait. And the whole point of this was to get you so excited to see me, you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off me once I was there.”

“But you’re here now.”

“Patience is a virtue, Quinn.”

“This isn't patience. This is torture.”

“Torture?” she repeated, arching a brow.

“You don't get it! I've had a hard on for two days now, and I’m going crazy. It’d be different if I was gone, but you’re right here.”

She smiled a satisfied smile and walked to the kitchen.

He was so desperate for her the next morning, he followed her to the bathroom, crowding her against the sink, hips pressed to her ass as she brushed her teeth.

“Please?” he groaned in her ear.

She shook her head before leaning over the sink to spit out the toothpaste. The move caused her to press back against him, and he grunted.

“Just because you’re home doesn’t mean we should skip out on the amazing Valentines Day sex I had planned.”

“It is Valentines Day,” he reminded. “We can have amazing sex right now.”

Shooting him a look in the mirror as she swished mouthwash, Sarah shook her head.

Letting out a groan of frustration, Quinn let his head fall on her shoulder.

“You just have to make it until I’m done with class,” she said, turning in his arms. “I was planning on making you wait until I would have arrived in Boston, but then I decided that was too mean.”

“Why don’t you skip class,” he asked, nosing her jaw as his mouth dipped to her neck.

She let out a pleasured hum.

“Come on,” he whispered into her skin, “I’ll get you off as much as you want.”

Swallowing her desire and clinging to the knowledge that the anticipation would make everything better, she broke away from him, “I have to go to class. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

He was gripping the sink, breathing deeply when she left the final present on the bed, and slipped out the door.

Barely glancing at the tag, Package 3 of 3. Are you getting excited to see me?, he tore into the silk bag, nearly ripping it in the process. Too impatient to wait, he turned it over. Several pieces of red fabric spilled onto the duvet.

He swore as he pulled the pieces apart. The largest was a robe, satin and short. There was a bra with a bunch of straps he couldn’t figure out, but he knew would look dead sexy once Sarah had it on. Then, a pair of panties made from the same lace as the bra. Only, it seemed as though the whole back of them was missing. Like a thong in reverse.

How was he supposed to decide which of these to pick? He wondered if he could convince her to try them all on for him so he could make an informed decision.

In the end, after laying each piece of lingerie side by side on the bed, he decided it had to be the blue. He’d never seen her in anything like it before, and at this point, he wasn’t sure if he could wait for her to change.

He left it out on the bed and left the apartment. He needed to clear his head and had to pick up her gifts.

When he got back home, he called for her, hoping he hadn’t beat her home.

“I’m up here.”

He raced up the stairs, nearly dropping the roses and chocolates in his haste.

“Holy fucking shit,” he said once his eyes landed on her where she was leaning against the lucky couch, wrapped in tight blue lace.

“You like?” she asked, skimming a hand down her side.

He made a nonsensical noise that nevertheless served as an affirmative answer. She looked incredible, all lace and curves, and yet, still his loving Sarah. She was a fantasy come to life.

“You’ve been so patient for me,” she said, padding toward him and taking the gifts from him.

She made a show of leaning over to set them on the coffee table.

His tongue felt too big for his mouth, and he made a sort of guttural sound of longing.

Her hand trailed up his arm when she came back to him, “you’ve been such a good boy for me, Quinn.”

“Fuck.”

“You know what good boys get?”

“Rewarded?” he ventured, his voice cracking over the word.

“That’s right. Are you ready for your reward?”

Knees wobbling, he nodded frantically.

Giving him a sexy smile, she led him to the bedroom.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

#quinn & sarah snapshots #tkanswers 📮#quinn hughes #quinn hughes fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes oneshot #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x ofc #quinn hughes au #quinn hughes x oc #hockey fanfiction #hockey romance #this is chaotic as hell

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milla-frenchy · 2 days ago

Text

Shameless

3k1 | Lucien de Leon x fem reader | ao3 | masterlist

Summary: you ask Lucien to come over and he does exactly what you need him to Warnings: 18+ mdni. Oral (f/m), size kink, cigarettes, rimming, ass play, piv, creampie, pet names (baby, baby girl), reader has no specific physical descriptions but wears a dress

a/n: Thank you for the inspo @gothcsz 🙏❤️ (tumblr free Kat FFS§§§) Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing and for everything, ily so, so much 🥹💕 @/saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏

“Come on baby, don't play like this now,” he said, full of self-confidence, leaning against the wall in front of your door in his stupid shirt. The mountain of shit he had been dragging behind him for years had never damage his self-esteem.

“I don’t know why I keep calling you,” you said, bitter and unfair towards him. “Every time I regret it. Before or after I fuck you.”

“Mmmm… So you regret it now? You want me to leave? Ok,” he added, turning around, before you could even answer.

“Fuck, wait, Lucien!”

He didn't hide his smile as he turned around.

“See, baby? That's your problem, you always push people away. You're scared to be loved. And that's why you always call me.”

“Yeah, right. And you’re perfect for that, because love’s not your thing.”

He leaned against the wall again, a soft smile on his lips.

“You think that? But who's gonna love you like I do, baby?”

“And how do you love me?”

“My way,” he said, coming closer to you, a cigarette resting behind his ear. This motherfucker was the hottest man you knew. The biggest red flag you’d ever met.

“You always say you wanna be good but you keep begging me to come over,” he said, moving closer to you, his face only a few inches away from yours. Damn, you just wanted to kiss him. To fuck him.

“Because no one can touch you like me, that deep,” he added, brushing your lips with his before pulling away.

“I’m not just talking about here,” he said, pointing at your heart with his finger. “But also here,” he added, grabbing your pussy. “You need me. No one can fuck you like me. That deep, right?”

You swallowed loudly. Fuck, you needed him, deep and rough. He probably saw it in your eyes, but instead of leaning in and kissing you, he grabbed his cigarette and lit it. He smiled as he let the smoke out.

“Come on baby, don't give me that ‘piss off’ look. I’m gonna give you what you want,” he said, pressing his hard cock against the fabric of his black pants and pushing himself against you. He turned the cigarette over to offer it to you, and you took a drag.

“Yeah, whatever,” you said.

“Had some good dicks in the last few weeks?”

“Fucked a few. Can’t say they were that good, though.”

“Awww,” he said dramatically, before adding, “you fucked them raw? Do I have to use a condom, baby?”

“No. You’re the only dick that I fuck raw.”

He chuckled and threw his cigarette on the ground. You rolled your eyes and in two seconds he was fully against you, crushing his lips against yours, his hands cupping your cheeks.

He was never aggressive or possessive, always beautifully sensual and free. No strings attached, and that's exactly what you needed. Someone who wouldn't ask you something you couldn't or wouldn't want to give.

Each time he’d kiss you, each time you’d fuck, you never knew if it was the last time. Didn't know if you'd end up getting bored with him like with everyone else.

You doubted he would, on the other hand. He was always patient, never seemed to take your mood swings badly. He never said ’no’ to you, even if he knew you just needed to use him, somehow. Even if you were sometimes hard on him.

He was probably right: he loved you in his own, unconventional way, and that twisted relationship was oddly the most stable part of your life.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked as he kissed your neck, your eyes already rolling to the back of your head just at the feeling of his soft mustache brushing your skin, then his rougher beard that he loved to rub against the soft skin of your neck. Just like he loved to graze it against your inner thighs each time he ate you out.

He straightened up to look at you then licked your lips with the tip of his tongue, your mind suddenly blank.

“Need it bad, huh,” he chuckled. It wasn’t a question. Yeah, you needed it bad, but still, you shrugged.

“Come on baby, let me in,” he said against your lips, his familiar tobacco breath invading your nostrils a little more. “And I'm not talking about your cunt, she’s already droolin’, right?”

You didn’t answer and just pulled away from him to lead the way inside your house, to the dining room. You could feel his eyes fixed on your ass. You didn't even have to sway your hips to know he'd follow you anywhere at that moment.

He pushed the front door behind him, quickening his pace to be right behind you and caress the roundness of your ass before seizing your hips to make you stop.

“Mmmm, baby… I never get enough of this body,” he murmured in your ear, his hard cock against you. You wanted to say something clever, or at least something with your usual “whatever” attitude, but his touch was overwhelming you.

He slid his hands up to your breasts and cupped them sensually, his nose against your hair, he breathed it in as he said, “damn you’re so hot,” almost to himself.

He squeezed your breasts slightly, perfectly, then pulled down your neckline, freeing your nipples swollen by desire. His hand slithered down your spine to your ass and then he grabbed his bulge.

“Shit, I’m so fucking hard,” he said, his voice not as playful as usual. “Turn around baby,” he added. You did as he asked, trying to get your composure back as you looked up at him.

He cupped your tits again and took a nipple in his mouth. He sucked and licked it, making you whine “shit” softly, as you ran your fingers in his hair and pressed his face against your skin. He chuckled, so sure of himself, that he was even hotter than a second before, and sucked your other nipple. He coated it with his saliva then peppered your chest with kisses, up towards your neck and finally your lips, his tongue quickly pushed through yours, while he grabbed the hem of your short dress then pulled it over your head. He was in a rush and your head was dizzy.

His hands were rubbing your body as if he didn't know what to touch or where to stop, but he finally covered your pussy with his full hand, his fingers brushing the wet garment.

“Mmm yeah…” he said, and you didn’t take your eyes off him as he unbuttoned his shirt then freed his hard cock from his pants. The most gorgeous cock you'd ever seen, with a fat tip and a large vein that you loved to roll under your tongue.

“Come on, baby. I’ve been thinking about fucking your mouth since you called me,” he said, slowly jacking his thick cock with his fist, his stare full of lust.

He was insanely beautiful and hot as hell, with his shirt open over his broad chest, two chains resting at the bottom of his neck.

“Yeah? Well I’ve been thinking about cumming in yours since I called you,” you replied.

“Damn, you’re gonna kill me one day, you know that?” he smiled.

“Mmm… clothes off, red flag guy,” you told him, then sat on the couch, feet firmly planted on the ground, legs spread. Shameless.

Panties still on, you knew he loved to remove them himself.

“And light me a cigarette, big boy, will you?”

You were in charge again. He was letting you be.

A silent game between the two of you with rules that never needed to be stated.

He took his pack out of his shirt pocket and lit a cigarette then handed it to you, letting the smoke escape from him towards you. Then he undressed, slowly and sensually.

You watched him getting naked in front of you, dragging on your cigarette from time to time, arm resting along the backrest. He always made you feel safe, free, powerful.

He remained standing for a few moments, looking at you like you were the most beautiful woman in the world. His hard cock pointed towards the ceiling, slowly jacking off again after spitting into his palm. Even though the precum was flowing from his reddened slit.

He knelt down and placed his hands on your knees before moving up the inside of your thighs, the soft rub making you shiver. When he grabbed the hem of your panties, you lifted your hips to help him to pull them down slowly, revealing your glistening pussy and the butt plug you had inserted just before he arrived.

“Shit, baby…” his husky voice and eyes full of desire made you drool a little more. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

“Fuck… Take a drag, baby,” he asked, unable to take his eyes off your two holes. He spread your thighs wider by pushing on them with his shoulders. You exhaled the blue smoke slowly, looking down at him, kneeling between your thighs. So broad, so strong, but still at your knees, leaving you in full control of your femininity. It made him even more beautiful, even more attractive, even more sensual. He grabbed one of your thighs and kissed the sensitive skin, then placed it on his shoulder.

“Fuck you're so hot. A true free spirit, aren't you?”

He didn't let you answer and leaned down, running his nose up your folds. He growled as he licked them with the tip of his tongue, then moved away slightly to look at your cunt and ass.

He seized the plug and pulled on it slightly, until the widest part reached your ring, making you moan.

“Shit,” he said, unable to say more as he watched your muscle tighten every time the metal spread it apart.

“You always let them go down on you?” he asked, moving the plug deliciously back and forth, before sticking his tongue into your wet cunt. You let your head fall back against the back of the couch. He had always been a really good fuck, but he always ate you out divinely well, leaving you breathless as soon as he dived in.

“Mmm?” he insisted.

“Shit… you’re the jealous type now?” you pantered.

“No. It turns me on to think about it,” he answered, grabbing one of your breasts with his hands.

“Damn, Lucien you're twisted…” you whimpered. “Not always… shit… I… not all men are good at it,” you stammered.

He chuckled, so sure of himself, pushing a finger into your cunt already stuffed by his tongue. It was like he was all over your body, boobs, pussy and ass, and it was intoxicating.

“I think you forgot about your cig, baby,” he said, teasing. He wasn't one of those men. Of course he wasn't. He was so good at this.

You crushed the cigarette in the ashtray by the armrest. He was so good that sometimes he would make you come in less time than it took you to finish your cig. Then he’d grab it from your trembling fingers to take a drag while you were still trying to catch your breath.

His hand left your tit to press your hip against the sofa and he pushed his tongue into your drooling hole.

“Gonna come for me? Yeah, you're gonna come for me. Soak my face, baby girl.”

You used him to get off, rubbing yourself against his nose, hands tight on his head, thighs spread as wide as possible, giving him full access to your core. You were so aroused that some of your wetness was leaking down to the plug, making it even easier for him to fuck you with it.

“Lucien,” you whined. His hand tightened on your flesh, letting you use him like you needed until you came in his mouth.

He pushed two fingers in your cunt and looked the way your body was squeezing his thick digits pumping your cunt and the plug, until it finally stopped.

He pushed the metal all the way in then stood up and brushed your cheek as you looked up at him and straightened up, his cock inches from your lips. He held it tightly and you licked his shaft from his fingers to his tip, unable to tease him more. He growled when you took him in your mouth, focusing on the tip at first then deeper and deeper, getting your throat used to his width, and your saliva started to flow down his shaft to his fingers. Your hand caressed his balls full of cum.

“Fuck yeah, just like that,” he murmured.

You pushed his hand from his shaft and jerked him off slowly, licking his balls that you could never resist for long. He whimpered when you took one of them in your mouth, the thin skin rolling between your lips.

“You're so easy, Lucien,” you chuckled. It was your turn to make him fall apart, and you loved it.

“Shit, yeah, I'm easy with this damn mouth,” he agreed. “That’s it baby. Keep licking them.”

You pulled them up then tasted the skin behind them, gaze looking up at him but his eyes were closed, his hands resting on your head.

“You don’t want a cigarette, Lucien?” you bantered, then licked him again from his scrotum to his ass that you teased with the tip of your tongue.

“Fuck… I can barely breathe, no I can’t smoke right now, you little minx,” he whimpered as you took a ball in your mouth. You finally released it with a needy moan. Your core was already filled with warmth again and begging for release.

“Shit, you need it deep, right? Wanna ride it?” he asked as he held your elbow to get you up.

“No, want you to fuck me.”

“Come here then, baby. All fours. Lemme see that ass.”

You settled and he knelt behind you, rubbing his cock against your soaked folds, before grabbing the plug and pulling on it slightly, making your ring contract instinctively as it was stretching you.

He chuckled, then mocked gently, “that’s cute. As if he doesn’t want to get fucked.” He nestled his fat tip at your sloppy pussy then pushed in, and you stopped breathing for a minute under the feeling of his cock splitting you in two.

“How do you need me, baby? Need me to fix you up for a while, until next time?”

You moaned, feeling him push in your two holes.

“Tell me,” he insisted, filling you with his whole length and brushing against your cervix.

“Yeah, fuck…. Yeah, I need you to fix me.”

“Damn, baby,” he said, pulling out to eat your pussy from behind, and he removed the plug to press his nose against your ass before coming up to lick it.

“Oh god,” you whined, eyes rolling in the back of your head and fists squeezing the sofa cushions. He spat on your ass and watched the saliva run down and slide inside before licking at it, pressing his tongue against it then pushing in. Your ass opened up to let him reach inside and you couldn’t hold back a loud moan as he was lapping at your hole.

He spanked you and focused his tongue on your most private place before grabbing your ass with his two hands. You wanted to beg him to stuff you until he’d fill you with his seed.

“Lucien, please… Fuck me.”

He straightened up and pressed his tip against your cunt, pushing in slowly to let you feel all of him sliding in.

“Oh, fuck,” you whined.

Leaning on your forearms, you didn't move, letting him thrust into you, filling you so slowly that you could feel the vein of his cock brushing your insides.

“Oh, god, that’s good Lucien, fuck…”

“Yeah? Always takin’ me so good, baby…”

He started to fuck you, his thumb pressed against your ass, growls and moans escaping from his lips. He was watching you contract on his digit as he was filling your two holes.

“Mmm,” you hummed. “Harder, please,” you whined.

You knew he would do it for you, in the way you needed, even though you knew he would want to take his time, to get you used to him. But he had quickly understood why you called him. Because he would answer your needs, because you were safe with him. Because his cock was so big it was perfect for what you were looking for, to forget everything else. He knew you were scared to be loved, or to love, and didn't want that kind of relationship. That this way of fucking was what you needed. For now anyway, and maybe forever. He always smiled when you called him a red flag, unaware of that game he was still playing for you. He could find it funny, how wrapped he was around your finger, although you didn't even know it. Or maybe you just didn't want to see it.

He was rolling into you, faster than he wanted. Harder than he wanted. Because if it was the only way he could have you, he would never say no. Because he knew you wouldn’t fall for him, and it was probably for the best.

“Fuck, baby… your little cunt is squeezing me so hard… You know I can never say no to you, right?” he asked, sliding his hand down to your clit, eager to make you come. His entire length was pushing in and out, fucking your insides like no one else could. Not as deep, not as wide.

“Make me come, Lucien, please,” you whimpered.

His balls squeezed him painfully, waiting to give you what you wanted. When you came, tightening on his cock so fucking hard, it was enough for him to spit his cum deep into your core while he panted even louder than you, mouth crushed against your shoulder, nibling at it, his weight pushing on your back. You leaned forward and felt his length leave your cunt and his cum flowed when you lay down on the couch, under him. Already feeling so desperately empty.

He leaned towards you and kissed you. He knew you didn't want more, and wouldn't allow more. Didn't want some bullshit proximity.

He sat on the couch, putting your calves on his lap, while you stayed lying there. He lit up a cigarette for you, then another one for him. You smoked them silently until he got up and put his clothes on.

“Till next time?” he asked.

“Till next time,” you replied.